The BS Life of The Louds
by Flagg1991
Summary: Final installment of the BS series. More sisters, and aunts, take notice of Lemy. REUPLOAD
1. A Favor For Leia

Lemy sat on the couch, snaked his arm around Gwen's shoulder, and…

"Oh, Lem-eee."

Sigh.

He glanced over as Leia came out of the dining room, one of her school books tucked under her arm. "I'm done with my homework," she said proudly.

Lemy nodded. Okay. Cool. What did she want, a cookie? Sorry, gurl, fresh out. I got some weed in my room. You down to toke?

"You know what that means," she said and came over to the back of the couch; she stared down at him with dirty eyes, and for a moment he was completely lost...then it hit him: She wanted him to eat her pussy. Oh, that's right, heh. After playing Rodeo with Lynn it kinda slipped my mind.

Honestly, he wasn't in the mood for sexual shit right now...he just wanted to cuddle with Gwen and maybe give her a foot rub (or a back rub, as long as he was touching her, he was happy), Then again, he owed Leia a trip downtown, so he was kinda stuck. "Alright," he said and got up. "You coming?" he asked Gwen.

"Not yet," she said with a smirk and stood. She laid her hand on his chest, stood on her tippy toes, and kissed his cheek.

Guess that meant she was.

He took her hand and together they followed Leia upstairs. "I am so sick of Mrs. Wilson and her goddamn homework," Leia said. She weaved her head and put her hand up in a very Donald Trump like okay sign. "It's every day with her. It's like, look, lady, you have me all day, can I just go home...please?"

"Yeah, she's a pain in the ass," Gwen said. They were at the top of the stairs now; soft moans drifted from Lupa and Lyra's room, meaning Dad was with one of them...or both, actually, since Lemy hadn't seen either one in a while. Wonder how many girls this dude's been with at one time. Like...what's the biggest -some he's ever had? Foursome? Fivesome? Tensome? God, man, at that point it'd be more overwhelming than fun; you'd have to have your dick, both your hands, and your mouth in play at the same time, and you'd still have naked chicks waiting around with their arms crossed.

Wonder if I could get literally all the girls in the house at once, just because. I really wouldn't want to, though, it'd be like...you know that episode of Spongebob where Plankton's got this big ass harmonica and he's running back and forth blowing into one hole here and another waaaay over there? It'd be like that only instead of blowing into a hole I'd be sticking my dick into a hole...then rushing off to stick it into another one...and another one...and another one...not thank you.

In her room, Leia tossed her book onto her desk and kicked out of her shoes. "Thank God it's Friday," she said, reached under her skirt, and yanked her panties down her legs. "I am so ready to relax." She sat on the edge of the bed and laid back, spreading her legs and digging her socked heels into the mattress; her skirt fell back and her pink sex was revealed. She scooted her butt until she was in the middle of the bed and lifted her head. "Ready," she said in a I'm-a-rich-woman-and-you're-the-waiter-bring-me-my-food-now tone.

Gwen let go of his hand and patted his butt. "Go eat your sister out. Freak."

Ha. "If you insist."

"I do."

"Fine."

"Fine."

He shot her a faux dirty look and she giggled. Girls, amirite? Can't live with them, can't choke 'em out.

Kidding.

He knelt on the bed and knee-walked up to Leia. She smirked and spread her legs even farther; a puff of her hot smell found his nose, and Ol' Shocky twitched. More? So soon? He got down to his stomach, and her heat bathed his face; even though he'd just dumped a mega load into Lynn, he was hard again.

"Don't just look at it," Leia said sharply, "put your mouth on it."

Fine, shit. First, though, he had to work his way to it, ya know? He started by placing delicate kisses along the inside of her thigh, letting his lips linger on her warm skin; next he kissed the gentle swell of her pubic mound. She was breathing faster now and licking her lips. The bed dipped as Gwen sat and laid her hand on his butt, her fingertips massaging lazy circles into his flesh.

When he reached her clit, he flicked his tongue out, and her breath caught. He licked slowly down between her folds, the sweet, buttery cream of her arousal filling his mouth and coating the back of his throat. The tip of his tongue dipped into her opening, and she let out a long hmmm. He put his palms on her quivering stomach, and she stroked her fingers along the backs of his hands, her hips beginning to move forward.

He danced his tongue back to her clit, pressed his lips to it, and drew it into his mouth. Leia gasped and dug her nails into his flesh. "I kinda want you to fuck me now," she said in a rush.

Shocky jerked. It's my time to shine.

He glanced back at Gwen and she nodded. "Just save some for me."

"Alright," he grinned. He got to his knees, unizippe his pants, and grabbed his tool. Leia watched with a Mona Lisa smile as he shifted and brought it to her opening. He pressed, slipping just the head in, then let go, grabbed the sheets, and pushed, his dick gliding in on a tide of her passion. "Oooooooh, yes," she muttered. He jerked forward and filled her entirely, then smooshed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply. Her hand went to his chest and clung to the front of his shirt; her hips rocked and swiveled from side to side in a very Lola-like fashion. Guess her mom was teaching her a thing or two in addition to Gwen.

When the kiss broke they stared into each other's eyes...and for some reason what Lynn said earlier came back to him. "Is it true you can't handle Dad's dick?"

"No," she said, "I can handle it. Lynn's a lying, smelly jock."

Lemy drew back and slid forward, his dick scraping her walls. "Really?" he asked incredulously.

"Umhm," she drew.

He increased his speed. "I think you're lying," he teased. He let go of the sheet, slipped his hands under her shirt, and cupped her budding breasts. She purred and arched her back; he rubbed his thumbs against her hard nipples and went faster still; the bed was creaking, her breathing coming in sharp, explosive bursts. Red circles touched her cheeks and her eyes rolled up to the ceiling, hazy with lust. "You can't take him, can you?"

"N-No," she panted, "I can't."

Lemy grinned. Wow. He kind of expected her to keep fronting. "You were basically a virgin when I fucked you."

Their bodies moved in rhythm, meeting each other with meaty slaps.

"Umhm." She bared her throat, and he kissed it...then she was done, her body shaking and her walls clamping down on him. She cried out and held desperately to his shirt as her orgasm tore through her like a ricocheting bullet. Lemy squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth, his own climax so close he could taste it. He thought of his grandmother...and it went away. Whew.

Leia was still now, her chest heaving. He pulled out and sat between her legs, facing Gwen, whose face was blushing. "You ready?" he asked.

Her head bobbed slowly up and down.

Slipping off the bed, he stood before her, his dick pointing at her face, glistening with Leia's juices. She flicked her eyes from it to his face, then took him in her mouth, going down slow and coming back even slower; she spit him out and licked her lips, giving Leia a sidelong glance. "Not bad."

"Thanks," Leia panted.

Gwen got to her feet, turned, and bent over the bed, spreading her legs wide and resting her upper body against the mattress. Lemy put his hands on her outer thighs, pushed her skirt out of the way, and grinned. "No underwear," he said.

"Easier access," she said over her shoulder.

Can't argue there. He put his hands on her hips and prodded her wet opening. She bowed her head and arched her back. "Don't tease me, Freak, I'm already there. Just fuck me."

He sank himself into her and she hummed. "There you are."

"Hi, babe."

He touched the passage to her womb and drew back, rolling his hips on the way. Might as well put Lola's tactics to use, ya know?

"I missed you today," she said.

"I missed you too," he replied and pushed forward again. "I tried to write you a poem but bombed." He fell into a steady pace, the familiar feeling of her body's contours urging him on.

"Y-Your poems never bomb," she hitched, "I love them." She pushed herself back, meeting his thrusts.

"I want them to be perfect...like you…"

He was slamming against her now, the friction too much to handle. Her body quivered under his touch and his climax was rushing up from his depths. He tried to fight it back, but it was too late, and like leaning into a fall, he could only go with it: He pushed deep and released, spraying her insides with sticky, molten cum. She gasped and shook with the power of her own orgasm, a series of nnghs trembling from her lips.

For a long time afterwards, Lemy stayed where he was, loath to break the connection between them. His dick was deflating though; he pulled out, and a glob of cum gushed out, landing on the floor with a muffled plop. Whoops. He glanced over at Leia; she was flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling, her breathing still heavy. "You're cleaning that up," she said.

Sigh.

Kinda worth it, cuz seeing two girls worn on on the bed and knowing he was responsible was really fucking hot.

Grabbing his pants, he pulled them on and zipped them up. "You got baby wipes or something?"

"Yeah," Leia said sarcastically, "I keep a bunch in here for when I piss on myself."

Hm. Didn't know she was into that.

"Go get a Clorox wipe from the bathroom," Leia said and waved her hand.

"You know," he said, "when I get done fucking your mom, she makes me breakfast; you make me clean your room."

"Well, I'm not Mom. Wipe your jizz off my floor before it stains, please."

Sighing, Lemy went to the bathroom, grabbed a few wipes, and came back, freezing at what he saw: Gwen was stretched out on the bed with her legs up in an M, and Leia was licking his cum from her hole like a girl licking the cream from a Twinkie.

Sometimes, man, it's like I live in the Twilight Zone.

He knelt next to the cum and looked up at his sister and girlfriend.

Or the Bilight Zone.

Get it?


	2. Siskel and Ebert Go to the Movies

**Lyrics to Down 'N' Dirty by Steelheart (1990)**

"This better worth it," Lemy groused. He was standing between Gwen and Lacy in a line outside the Palace Theater with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his military coat and his shoulders squared against the biting cold. Behind him movie posters surrounded by flashing light bulbs lined the wall. Ahead, a bored looking teenage girl crammed into a too-small box office took money and handed back tickets. She was being slow as fuck about it, too. I've seen dead people move faster.

Gwen slipped her arm around his waist and hugged him; he circled her shoulder and brought her close. "It'll be totally worth it, Freak."

A gust of wind swept over them and Lemy shivered.

Behind Gwen, Liby twisted restlessly left and right, her hands in her coat pockets and her ponytail rustling in the breeze. She looked annoyed and impatient, but she was actually anything but: Her entire attention was focused on Gwen and Lemy, as it had been the whole evening. She searched the girl's eyes for deception and examined her tone for inflections of dishonesty.

So far, she'd found nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. At this point, she had no choice but to believe that Gwen was on the level.

She just had to talk to her.

She'd been waiting for a chance to be alone with her all night, but she and Lemy were stuck like glue; the only place she didn't go with him was the bathroom.

Just kidding, she went there with him too. Not into the men's room, but back at the restaurant, he got up to take a whizz and she had to 'go too.'. Alone at the table with Lacy, Liby frowned. "She's kind of clingy."

Lacy shrugged. "A little. It's kind of cute, though. She follows him around like a puppy dog." Her brow pinched in thought. "And he follows her around like he's a puppy dog. I really can't tell who's the master."

Lacy was convinced that Gwen was okay, and had been for close to a week. You're being too paranoid, she said. Well, maybe, but you can never be too careful; trusting people at face value is for fools, a lesson she'd learned again and again in her line of work.

Presently she stole a quick glance at Gwen and Lemy: He was behind, his arms draped over her shoulders and her body nestled against his. He kissed the top of her head and she preened like a satisfied cat. Lacy brushed past them and came over, her arms crossed. "This is taking forever," she moaned.

They'd been waiting for over half an hour. The movie Lacy chose was an action flick by that director - what was his name? You know, the guy who's known for unnecessary and impossible explosions: A skateboard crashes into a wall and BOOM, instant Judgement Day. Liby didn't like those movies (they got everything about weapons, the military, and law enforcement wrong), but everyone else apparently did, as evidenced by the line, which thankfully, was starting to move.

"You're the one who wanted to see Exploder: Evacuator Part II."

Lacy threw her head back "I know but it's a good movie."

By the time they reached the box office ten minutes later, they had five minutes to get their refreshments and get into the theater or risk missing the previews. "We gotta see the previews," Lacy said, "if we miss them we might as well just go home." Yes, God forbid we miss the previews.

Inside, a crush of people waited at the concession stand as two pimply teenage boys rushed to fill cups with soda and tubs with popcorn. As they fell in behind a very large family dressed in matching blue, Lacy scanned the racks of candy with wide, childlike eyes. "Hot Tamales," she whispered, then nudged Liby's arm. "They have Hot Tamales."

"We'll get some," Liby said and glanced at Gwen and Lemy; she hugged his waist from behind, her face resting against his back and a happy smile on her lips. She had to admit, they were kind of cute, but Gwen was very clingy. Then again, so was Lemy.

They should really work on not being that way, especially Lemy, because who's to say Gwen won't smash his heart into a million pieces? They were in their honeymoon phase right now, so it was all hunky-dory, but what happens in six weeks when she starts bitching him out for leaving the toilet seat up and he stops showing her as much affection because she wasn't new and shiny? Bad things, that's what.

At the counter, Lemy ordered a large tub of popcorn and two medium Cokes; he took the popcorn and one of the drinks and Gwen took the other. Liby and Lacy stepped forward and the clerk nodded. "One popcorn, two Coke…"

"Hot Tamales," Lacy breathed.'

Liby grabbed a box of Hot Tamales and slapped them on the counter. "And this."

As the clerk rang up their purchases, Liby's eyes drifted to Lemy and Gwen; they were standing along the far wall sipping Coke and munching popcorn. Gwen turned to him, said something, then squatted down and sat her pop on the floor. With that, she turned and disappeared around the corner. Toward the bathroom.

This was her chance.

"15.50," the clear said just as Liby started to hurry away. Pursing her lips, she dug into her pocket, closed her fingers around a crumpled bill, and brought it out. A fifty. "Here," she said and tossed it onto the counter, "keep the change."

She rushed off, dodging an old woman in a muumuu and a black guy in a Yankees cap. "Hey!" Lacy called after, "Where are you going? I can't carry all this stuff by myself! Liby!"

Sorry, sis, I'm on an important mission here. Ducking around the corner, she swerved around a fat man in a shirt that read LIO and went into the women's room, the harsh glare of fluorescent lights stinging her eyes after the dimness of the lobby; the stench of stale urine overlaid with disinfectant pinched her nose and she grimaced. In her line of work, she'd smelled mass graves in Rwanda, burning flesh in Syria, and Ebola on the Ivory Coast, and none of it affected her - this, though, yuck. She could kind of understand a men's room smelling this way, since men have dicks and spray their piss all over the place, but the ladies room? H-How is that even possible?

Anyway, she went to the sink and glanced at the stalls; there were five, and all but one stood open and empty. Gwen was in the last, just finishing up by the sounds of it. Liby stared at Gwen's feet under the partition; the toilet flushed and she stood. Playing it cool, Liby turned to the basin, switched the faucet on, and stuck her hands under the water just as Gwen came out. Liby looked up and did put on her best hey-buddy-didn't-know-you-were-there face. "Hey."

"Hey," Gwen said and came over, taking the sink next door. She turned on the faucet, squirted soap onto her hands, and wrang them under the flow.

Alright. How do I approach this? I have to use finesse...she's my brother's girlfriend, after all, not some rando off the street. "So...you and Lemy." She tried to think of something to add but couldn't. She wasn't used to this kind of talk. Who sent you and what do you know? Yeah. What are your intentions with my brother? Not so much.

Gwen glanced over then back to her hands, a warm smile touching her lips. "Yeah. He's great. I really lucked out with him."

Liby nodded her agreement. Yeah, ya did, sister. "He's a good guy," Liby said, "in fact, I used to be in love with him. And so did Lacy."

Gwen looked at her. "Really?" she asked curiously.

"Yep," Liby said, "then we got together and we stopped, but we still love him as a brother and neither one of us wants to see him get hurt. Or used."

Slowly, Gwen nodded...then her face darkened as understanding dawned on her. "Excuse me?" Liby inferred from her tone that she had offended her, which was not her intent. See? She wasn't very good at diplomacy; shooting someone in the face is easy, talking to them is not...unless you're demanding information from them.

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't using him for a place to live or something, that's all. You know, since you're homeless."

Gwen's jaw dropped, then snapped closed again. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and Liby got the impression that she said something wrong again. "I mean…"

Gwen opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it and brushed past her; tears streamed down her face and Liby's chest twinged with something like guilt.. She slammed through the door, and Liby watched her for a moment before hurrying after.

In the lobby, Lemy and Lacy were standing against the wall and talking. Lacy pointed down the hall and when Lemy turned to look, she stole a handful of popcorn from his bucket. He whipped his head around and gave her a dirty look; she laughed and shoved a Hot Tamale into his mouth.

Hands fisted at her sides, Gwen stalked over, and Liby watched as Lemy's face screwed up in an expression of concern. He put his hand on her shoulder and said something that Liby was too far away to hear.

Just as Liby came over, Gwen and Lemy started across the lobby toward the door. Lacy looked after them with a worried frown, then glanced at Liby. "What's up with her?"

"I think I said something wrong," Liby said.

Lacy's brow knitted. "What?" she asked sharply.

Lemy snaked his arm around Gwen's shoulder and drew her close as they went through the door and out into the night. Gwen's head was bowed and one of her hands was pressed mournfully to her face. Liby couldn't hear over the din of the other moviegoers, but she knew from the way her shoulders shook that she was crying, and her heart broke. She really didn't mean to upset her - she was sure she really liked Lemy, and it wasn't meant to be a confrontation just...a talk.

"What did you say to her?" Lacy pressed.

"Nothing, really. I just told her that we didn't want to see Lemy get hurt. She got upset and I said I was just making sure she wasn't using him for a place to live because she's homeless." Repeating it, Liby could kind of see how it might have come across wrong.

Or how it was spoken wrong.

Lacy gaped. "Really? You said that?"

Shamefaced, Liby nodded.

Lacy threw up her hand. "Real smooth. You had to know the homeless thing would hurt if nothing else."

Liby sighed. "I know, it just slipped, I guess." She stole a furtive glance at Lacy, who simply shook her head in disappointment. "We should probably go so I can apologize."

"Ya think?" Lacy asked.

* * *

Lemy held Gwen in his arms and placed soft kisses along the nape of her neck, his nose breathing in her comforting scent and his fingers gently rubbing circles into her stomach; her hands rested on his and her stormy eyes stared into the distance.

They had been laying on Lemy's bed since getting home from the theater a half an hour ago. On the way, he dragged the story out of Gwen, and it made him so goddamn mad he almost spun around, went back, and punched Liby in her face. I can't believe she thought I was using you, Gwen said and wiped tears from her eyes. You don't think that, do you? There was a keen, desperate edge to her voice that stuck his heart like a knife. I'm not. I love you, Lemy and I would never use you like that. All he could do was stop, put his hands on her shoulders, and tell her that he knew. She was right about me being homeless, though, she said heavily at one point and started to cry. I am.

No you're not, he told her, your home is with me.

I'm living in your house like a burden and everyone thinks so.

No, they don't.

He didn't know what they thought, and frankly, my dear, he didn't give a damn. Dad was the only one whose opinion mattered, and he was totally fine with Gwen staying. He said just yesterday: She's welcome here for as long as she wants, so Loan, Liby, Lacy, and the rest of them could go fuck themselves.

"You alright?" he asked now, the sudden sound of his voice shattering the silence like a pane of glass.

For a moment she didn't reply, and he began to wonder if she'd fallen asleep. "Yeah," she said and sighed, "I'm fine." Her voice was low and breathy, which told him she was not fine. Anger clutched his chest and he bit down on the insides of his lips.

"I'm going to talk to her," he said, "a-and let her know what a fucking cunt she is."

"No," Gwen said, "please don't. I don't want to cause problems."

Lemy closed his hand over hers. "You're not the one causing problems, she is."

"Just...please don't," she plead.

Sghing, Lemy rested his chin against her shoulder. "Alright. I won't."

"Thank you," she said, a note of relief in her voice.

For a long time after that, he simply held her and occasionally kissed her. First of all, it's none of Liby's fucking business. She needs to keep her nose to herself and stop worrying about what's going on with me. Second, Gwen's not using me. That's fucking one hundred percent clear by this point. She didn't even want to stay here, I had to talk her into it. She had it in her head that she was being some kind of huge imposition or some shit, and she was ashamed to be in this position in the first place. She was never fully comfortable anywhere but his room because she thought this isn't my house. Man, you know how fucking hard that has to be on someone? How awful it must feel? Then here comes Liby trying to solve the mystery of why Gwen isn't crying and feeling even worse about herself. Oh, got it, she hasn't been called homeless yet. That fucking steamed him every time he thought about it.

Gwen didn't deserve to feel like that. Her mother and stepfather already beat her down enough, she -

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" he asked.

It opened and Liby stuck her head in.

Lemy's eyes narrowed to slits. "What the fuck do you want?"

Liby's lips flattened in a contrite expression. "I-I just want to apologize." She glanced over her shoulder, then came into the room, Lacy following behind, a tight smile on her face. Gwen looked up, and Lemy held her tightly, protectively.

"It was really fucked up what you said," Lemy spat.

"Lemy," Gwen forestalled.

Liby bowed her head. "I know, and I'm really sorry." For a moment she stood in the middle of the room, then came over to the edge of the bed; she knelt in front of Gwen and rested her hand on the mattress. She glanced back at Lacy, who nodded. "I'm really sorry," she said earnestly, "I didn't mean to upset you. I-I guess I really don't know how to talk to people right. I -" here she faltered. "I just meant to say Lemy means a lot to me and I was just kind of worried at first that maybe you weren't...serious about liking him. You are Leia's friend after all, and anything associated with Leia is highly suspect."

"She means that Leia's done some messed up stuff, and she's always plotting," Lacy said, "so...nothing against you. You're great. We just didn't know at first."

Liby nodded. "Yeah. I'm really sorry I said all that, I never meant to hurt your feelings. You're really cool and I - Lacy and I - want to get to know you better. That's all."

"And we know just how to do it," Lacy said with a lopsided smile. She turned her eyes to Lemy and winked exaggeratedly.

Uh...then it came back to him; as Lynn was dragging him off to play Rodeo, Lacy came out of her room and sagged her shoulders. Don't break him, Mom, me and Liby wanna do him later. Call him what you want, but he was pretty damn good at math; he could put two and two together real easy.

"How?" Gwen asked, her brow clinching.

"I'll show you," Liby said. She looked at Lemy. "Get up."

Lemy didn't move. He was not about to let Gwen go...unless she wanted him to. "Do you...are you okay with this?" he asked.

She hesitated. "I guess."

Liby patted the girl's hand. "I wanna make it up to you, okay? I wanna show you that,,,that we're okay. I wanna do something for you that I've only done for one person before, something I won't do for anyone else."

"Seriously," Lacy said, her face bright, "you're gonna love it." She looked at Lemy. "Get up."

He brushed Gwen's hair out of her face. "It's okay," she said, "get up."

Kissing her cheek and giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Lemy got up and went over to stand next to Lacy, his arms crossing over his chest. She playfully socked his arm and he threw out his elbow, hitting her side. "Knock it off, Loud," she said and pushed him. "Watch."

Lemy leaned against the dresser as Gwen laid flat on her back and Liby mounted her. You're expecting him to drop his jaw, right? Nah, brah, I knew it was coming. Still hot though, Liby with her knees on either side of Gwen and bending over her, hands on her shoulders...hey, Shock, how's it going?

Liby said something that Lemy didn't hear, then she scooted down; Gwen spread her legs and Liby took up a position between them, her chest mooshing against the mattress and her face hovering above Gwen's core. "Liby does this thing with her tongue," Lacy explained, "and it is fucking awesome." She thrusted her hips out and threw her head back. "Oh, my God."

On the bed, Gwen propped her legs up in an M and Liby dipped her head down; Gwen's sharp inhalation told Lemy that Liby wasn't just looking at it, ya feel? A blush burst across her cheeks and she slowly licked her lips; his dick stirred because...c'mon, there's nothing hotter in the world than Gwen being pleasured.

When Lacy slapped the back of her hand across his chest, he jumped. She wore that same lopsided grin. "Looks like it's just me and you."

"Looks like it," Lemy confirmed.

Gwen moaned lowly.

"Guess that means we gotta fend for ourselves." She stepped into his arms and pressed her body against his, her hands going to his hips and her face upturned. "You're taller than usual," she said.

"Growth spurt," Lemy said, "and before you ask, yeah, my dick grew too."

She lifted her brows. "Yeah? Let's see. I bet it's tiny."

Lemy snorted. "You sound just like your mom."

She tilted her head to one side. "Wait until I start laughing at it the way she did, then I'll really sound like her."

You ever hear that rap song Wait Until You See My Dick? Is that what's it's even called? I dunno, but, anyway, yeah, Lace, wait'll you see my dick. He pulled away from her and undid his belt, her eyes going to his groin and her bottom lip sucking expectantly into her mouth. "Wait," she said, "let me get my magnifying glass."

"You're funny," he said, reached into his pants, and grabbed it; he looked up at her and their eyes met. For a moment he didn't move (gotta play up the drama of the moment), and she nodded.

"Embarrassed?"

He was pulled it out, and her eyes widened. "Wow," she drew appreciatively and looked into his eyes. He smiled smugly and nodded...then cried out when she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged her lips to his.

Well I've been around the world, I've seen all kinds of girls

But not like the one I met last night

She said boy I really like your style, forgive me if I appear too wild

But I want to mow you down like a freight train

Their noses bumped and her tongue shot into his mouth like a rapist breaking through a first story window. Lemy flailed his arms in an effort to keep from falling, but it was too late; he toppled forward and they crashed onto the bed, Lemy on top and Lacy beneath, her tongue pillaging the inside of his mouth. Holy shit, she's just like Lynn.

I jumped back, I saw the fire in her eyes

Well I started shaking in my shoes

She said relax babe, you're in good hands

Oh tell me what have you got to lose

Gwen gasped. "Oh, my God, how are you doing that?"

Lemy slapped his hands on either side of Lacy's head and pushed up slightly; she pulled him flush with her and plunged her hands into his hair. He wasn't into being dominated by a woman, but her enthusiasm was a total fucking turn on. He kissed her back and ground his erect penis against her crotch, his head raking across the rough fabric of her shorts. She wrapped her legs around his hips and jerked her fingernails through his scalp, making him gasp in pleasure and pain.

Gwen clutched the cover in both hands and rocked her hips into Liby's face, her breathing fast, her eyes squeezed shut.

Lacy shoved Lemy back, her face red and her her eyes blazing. She hooked her thumbs into her shorts and pulled them down, exposing her glistening center. You know what they say, brah; when it Rome, do as the Romans. He grabbed them, yanked them over her ankles, then tossed them away and roughly mounted her. She spread her legs, and he thrusted deep into her..

Get down n' dirty, lay it on the floor

Shake, shake it up, babe and shake it up some more

Ever put your dick in a boiling honey? Lemy hadn't, but he imagined if he did it would feel a lot like Lacy. Her body was hot, hotter than her mother's even; maybe cuz she was younger and in her prime. Lemy didn't know; the moment he entered her, his rational mind collapsed like a plastic lawn chair under the epic weight of a two ton fatty. He moaned a shivery "Ohhhh, fuck," and Lacy's breathing hitched.

"Jesus you're almost as big as Dad," she said in a rush.

Get down n' dirty, lay it on the floor

Shake, shake it up, babe and shake it up some more

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," Gwen said in a low, carnal chant. Liby's hands were splayed on her stomach and her head moved in a quick circle, her tongue doing things the younger girl never thought possible. She threaded her fingers through her own hair and pulled as bursts and whorls of euphoria ripped through her body.

At the foot of the bed, Lemy lay on his back; Lacy jerked herself down onto his dick, grabbed his shirt, and started to bounce. As he'd done with her mother, he grabbed her hips and held on for dear life, wincing as his dick came nearly out on every upswing. Man, if it pops out and she comes down on it, I'll wind up like DJ Qualls in The New Guy: They'll call me broke dick forever.

"Jesus, Lem," she panted. Her walls gilded wetly up and down his shaft and her muscles pulsated against him. He threw his hips forward and his head slammed against the opening of her womb; her eyes crossed and she shuddered. "F-Fuck, m-man!" she quivered.

Back seat, she was running hot, she said, "Baby, give me all you got

Time for dirty dog to come feed the kitty"

Gwen bucked and spasmed against Liby's face as her orgasm gripped her. Liby moaned in contentment as the younger girl's juices coated the inside of her mouth and slid down the back of her throat. She ran her hands over Gwen's stomach and dragged her nails across her flesh, which made her shake harder.

Lacy held Lemy's hands to her breast and started to come undone, her breathing coming in explosive bursts, her heart pounding, her walls closing around her brother's throbbing cock. His thumbs mashed against her nipples and kneaded furiously through the fabric of her shirt; when he tweaked them, she took off life rocket, her hips gyrating and her head bowing.

We were bumpin' and grindin' all night, hanging on with all my might

Rollin' 'til the train was running off the tracks

Liby took Lemy's face in her hands and brought his lips to hers; he rested his hand on her hip as their tongues swirled around one another, hesitantly at first then hungrily as each found the taste of the other's mouth sapid. Next to them, Gwen trailed soft, tender kisses down Lacy's stomach, her hands cupping the jock's breasts. Lacy purred and ran her fingers through Gwen's hair, her eyes flashing with lust.

"I've never done this before," Gwen said.

"That's fine," Lacy replied huskily, "I'll tell you what to do."

Lemy's hand rubbed up and down Liby's flank as the kiss deepened, their lips mashing together and their tongues practically poking the back of each other's throat. The salty taste of Gwen's essence mixed with Liby's saliva filled Lemy's mouth, and passion overcame him. He rolled Liby onto her back and mounted her, his tip scraping across the fabric of her skirt and then prodding her soft center.

"Oooooh, that's nice," Lacy whistled; Gwen licked slowly between her aching folds, lapping like a thirsty kitten; she ran her nails up and down the outsides of Lacy's legs, her own arousal rising as the older girl's natural lubrication smeared her tongue.

Lemy slipped his hands into Liby's hair and thrusted into her; she hummed against his lips and started to swivel her hips in a circle, her velvety walls throttling his dick. She musta taken lessons from Lola too. He pulled back from her lips and stared into her eyes as he started a steady course. "God, that feels good," she said.

"When's the last time you had a dick?" he asked.

"Ummm….too long."

Lacy pressed Gwen's face against her crotch and clamped it in place with her powerful thighs. "Yeah, honey, just like that," she sputtered, "keep working my clit...ummm, fuck."

The smoke cleared, I looked into her lovin' eyes

Well, I knew my love was on the line

I said, "Girl, I'd be a fool to let you go"

She said, "Come on boy, stop wastin' time"

Liby circled her arms around Lemy's neck and held on as he pounded into her. "Y-You're really good," she breathed then laughed.

"You too," Lemy said and pressed his forehead against hers. "You're gonna make me cum."

Her ragged breath broke against his lips. "Do it," she said.

"N-Not yet. You feel really good."

"Ummm...so do you. "

Lacy arched her back and cried out as she came, her core grinding against Gwen's face. Liby hissed as her wounded elbow connected with the bed. "You okay?" Lemy asked.

"Yeah," she said, "just my gunshot."

Lemy increased his speed as he felt his orgasm beginning to fill his depths. "R-Rookie mistake."

"I k-know. I feel s-stupid."

Lemy buried his face in the crook of her neck and slid back slowly, his shaft dragging along her rippling insides. "Did you shoot the guy who shot you?" he asked and slid his hips forward, striking her cervix.

She swallowed thickly. "Umhm. G-Got him in the n-nuts."

Lemy winced. "Ouch." He pulled back until only the head was in, then rocketed forward, his dick sinking deep with a muddy squelch. Her fluid burned so fucking good. "T-That's fucking cold."

Liby licked her lips and hooked her legs around his hips, drawing him deeper into her. "I-I didn't mean to. I was just shooting and it -" her words trailed off and she winced. "Y-You're hitting my G-sport, oh, God, you're hitting my G-spot." Lemy bowed his head and went faster, thinking of Grandma because he didn't wanna finish yet, but his mind and body were racing and his body was in the lead.

Get down n' dirty, lay it on the floor

Shake, shake it up, babe and shake it up some more

Get down n' dirty, lay it on the floor

Shake, shake it up, babe and shake it up some more

Lacy and Gwen lay side-by-side watching Lemy stroke into Liby, his hands planted on either side and her arms around her neck; he kissed her neck and she nibbled his earlobe, laughing when he winced. "He's pretty good," Lacy said and slapped the back of her hand across Gwen's chest.

"So's Liby," Gwen said, and sighed deeply. "That thing with her tongue…"

"I know," Lacy laughed, "the first time she did it I, like, prematurely ejaculated." She held her hands over her bare crotch and humped the air. "Oh, yeah!"

Gwen laughed. "Really, I hope she teaches Lemy that. I would die if he did it to me."

Lacy scrunched her lips to the side. "Yeah, that would be pretty hot. Lib?"

Liby threw her head back against the pillow and propelled her hips into Lemy's thrusts. "M-Maybe," she said, "it's my s-secret weap-pon."

Lemy kissed her neck and squeezed his eyes closed. His load was bursting against the base of his dick, filling it, burning like a bullet as it entered the chamber. He froze in a vain attempt to save himself, but it was too late: His load was a freight train rushing downhill and Casey Jones was behind the wheel.

Going with the fall, he slammed his dick as deep into his sister as it would go and sprayed her waiting womb with a spurt of hot, sticky sperm, knocking her off and edge and into her own orgasm: She squeezed her arms and legs around him and convulsed like an epileptic at a rave, tiny cries, grunts, and sighs issuing from her bobbing throat. Her walls closed around him him like a vise, and he cried out as her body ripped another wad from his depths. His knees gave out and he collapsed onto her, his dick shooting deeper and pumping another glob through her cervix. Liby's eyes narrowed and her mouth dropped open in a silent scream; her nails dug into his back and she seized beneath him, her hips thrusting up of their own accord and greedily sucking his balls dry.

Lemy launched one final burst, then fell still; their bodies trembled and their chests heaved. Liby felt his heat spreading through her body and shuddered, a giggle bursting from her throat. She brushed her limp bangs out of her eyes and took a deep breath; Lemy lay atop her, his lips pressed to her shoulder and his deep exhalations bathing her fevered skin. He was beginning to shrink, and when he plopped out, she could feel his cum leaving her in a gush.

"Wow," she said, "that was really good."

Lemy nodded. "Yeah," he said.

For a moment neither of them spoke. Then: 'Can you get off me, please? You're leaking out of me."

"I don't think I can move."

Liby rolled her eyes and shoved him off; he rolled onto his back, his head coming to rest on Gwen's knee. "Hi, Freak," she smiled.

"Hey."

She reached out her hand and he took it, their fingers threading and their palms pressing together. Liby sat up and looked around for her underwear, finally spotting them bunched on the floor. She stood, and Lemy coursed down her legs; she winced. "I'm getting it all over your floor. Sorry."

Without looking away from Gwen's eyes, Lemy waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"That was a blast," Lacy said and sat up. She slapped Gwen's leg with a meaty thwack. "We should play a game tomorrow. Soccer or something."

"Maybe," Gwen said, her eyes locked with Lemy's.

Bonding with your boyfriend's sisters is important, but spending the day curled up in his arms is oh my god.

Hanging with your sisters is great all and, but hanging with the girl you love is holy shit, brah.

Later, alone in the dark after making love, Lemy held Gwen to his chest and kissed the side of her neck. "How do you feel now? Like...about Liby and Lacy?"

Gwen didn't speak for a moment. "They're okay. I'm not upset anymore, and I kind of get where Liby was coming from. She told me she and Lacy were in love with you before they got together."

Lemy's face dropped. Say what? "They were?"

"That's what she said. They care a lot about you...which is really cool, because I do too. Knowing they're looking out for you and, like, have your best interests at heart is really comforting."

Lemy didn't hear that.

They were in love with me? Wow.

Good thing they stopped.

Or he might not have Gwen.

Hugging her close, he nuzzled her neck. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too, Freak."

Then, their bodies entangled, they slept.


	3. A Trip to The Pizza Dungeon

**It's a shame more writers and artists in the sin kids fandom don't use Dino. He's turnt, my nigga. Lio and I were messaging back and forth on Discord one night when he showed me the rough draft of Dino. I suggested the addition of sunglasses and a Tupac style bandanna, and we were off to the races. As far as I know, I'm the only writer to ever handle him and did so at a time when his only previous appearance was in Lio's comic in passing. I took the "Hip Hop" bit and cranked it up to ten. Y'all sin kids guys need to get on the Dino train and stop worrying over Generic Big Tit Female OC #72. Dino's far cooler anyway.**

**Lyrics to Walk the Dinosaur by Was Not Was (1988); Diamond Eyes by Shinedown (2008)**

Saturday morning, Gwen sat up in bed, yawned, and stretched; warm November sunshine fell across her shoulders and warmed her already heated flesh. It was funny: Every night before she moved in with Lemy, she was cold, no matter how high the heat was turned or how many blankets she piled on her chest. Every night since, however, she was so warm it was sometimes uncomfortable; she'd have to stick a leg out from under the blanket or roll it down to her stomach, and once she even had to get up and crack the window. It was Lemy; he was a heater. When they were under the covers together he threw off a lot of body heat. It could be uncomfortable now, but she didn't mind; it was really nice on those super cold nights. They'd strip naked and cuddle, which usually led to sex, then afterwards they'd cuddle more. She loved cuddling with him, though she couldn't decided what position she liked better: Facing him or facing away from him. Both felt really good, but she thought she liked facing him best; drawing her knees up and running her toes along the length of his leg, grazing her palm over his side, kissing him, crawling on top of him and riding him until he swelled and filled her with even more warmth...

Okay, she liked that position best.

Twisting around, she reached out and touched Lemy's shoulder; he was huddled under the blanket, only his head exposed. His eyes were shut and his lips slightly parted. Gwen's heart melted into a warm, gooey puddle: Awww, he's so cute when he's asleep. He's always cute, but especially when he's sleeping. He's, like, an angel or something. She kind of wanted to wake him up, but she didn't have the heart. Instead, she touched his cheek then got to her feet. In the hall, one of those epic Loud House lines stretched from the bathroom to almost the head of the stairs, Lyra at the very back and Mr. Loud at the very front. She fell in behind the former, who glanced over her shoulder. "Hey, Gwen."

"Hi," Gwen said. For some reason, she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was dressed only in her panties and a thin white tank top that did little to conceal her breasts. Blushing, she crossed her arms and bowed her head.

The Louds had all been very nice to her, but she couldn't help feeling uncomfortable here. For one, this wasn't her home, and no matter what Lemy or Mr. Loud said, she felt like an outsider, a guest, and maybe some guests can fully relax in someone else's home, but she could not. She was always just a little tense; she usually didn't come out of the room undressed like this, and when she was hanging out downstairs, she didn't take her shoes off like everyone else. She was weird, okay?

For another, she was ashamed of being in this situation. Like really ashamed. Liby saying she wanted to make sure she wasn't using Lemy because she was 'homeless' really hurt, even now, because she was homeless, and she felt like...like if she treated this place like it was her home she'd look bad. Look at that freeloader curled up on the couch with no shoes. Make yourself right at home, Little Miss Rich Bitch. Go make a snack while you're at it. Eat all our food. Want some money, too? She didn't want them to think of her like that so she went out of her way to not be like that. She offered to do chores and stuff even though that was never enough at home, so why would it be here? They smiled and thanked her, but she wasn't sure if they meant it or not.

Ahead, the bathroom door opened and Lupa came out. Now Gwen felt even more self-conscious because Lupa unnerved her; she was, like, really distant and unimpressed or something, and Gwen didn't think she liked her. Loan was kind of like that too. Well...more than kind of. Gwen knew that Loan didn't like her, and she kind of felt like maybe Loan was showing what everyone else felt; they could hide it but Loan couldn't, you know?

Gwen looked down at her feet as Lupa passed and stepped forward when the line moved. "Where's Lemy?" Lyra asked. Her tone sounded casual, making conversation, but was she, or was there a deeper meaning? Where's Lemy? He really needs to put you on a leash and stop letting you wander around. He wants you here, we don't.

That was unfair. They'd all be really good to her and she had no right to think that way. It was a defense mechanism; can't be let down when you're already on the ground.

"Asleep," she said.

""Ahhh," Lyra said with a nod, then grinned. "You wear him out last night?"

"Maybe a little," Gwen allowed.

"Actually, we wore him out," Lacy said from behind her, and she almost jumped. Lacy snaked her arm around Gwen's shoulder, drew her roughly to her chest, and ground her knuckles into her scalp. Gwen squeezed her eyes closed and took it. "And Gwen got to taste pussy for the first time."

Gwen went rigid with embarrassment when Lyra laughed. "Did you like it?"

"I-It was okay," Gwen said. Actually, she really enjoyed it.

Lacy released her and stretched. "You're not bad at it, either. Not as good as Liby, though." She moaned. "It's like having your soul licked out."

"It was really good," Gwen said, smiling faintly at the memory; Liby made her cum almost as hard as Lemy did. If he ate her that way, she'd freaking melt.

"Told ya," Lacy said and nudged her arm.

Later, at the dining room table, Gwen sat in Lemy's lap and ate from a bowl of generic Cocoa Puffs. Mr. Loud sat across from them, and Gwen did her best to ignore him. She didn't dislike him, but she kind of worried that maybe he wanted to have sex with her like he did his daughters, and she wouldn't be able to say no since he was letting her live in his house. He was really awkward around her, and usually when a guy acts like that, he wants to do you. She did her best to be social with him because, again, he was letting her stay here, but if she could avoid it, she did.

"Lemy," Mr. Loud said, "do you and Gwen have any plans today?"

Gwen stared down at her bowl and skimmed her spoon across the surface.

"Not really," Lemy said and took a bite of his own cereal.

Mr. Loud nodded. "I was hoping you, me, and Gwen could do something." Gwen's heart clutched. Did he mean something...or 'something'? In this family, you could never tell; double entendre and innuendo were official languages in the Loud house..

"Yeah, I guess," Lemy said noncommittally and looked at her. "You want to?"

Gwen hesitated. Sex? No. She did not….but she would if she had to. Not sex? Uh...okay. "Yeah," she said, "t-that sounds fun."

Lemy looked at his father. "Alright. Yeah."

"Great. We'll leave about...twelve."

"Can I come?" Lizy piped up. She sat between Mr. Loud and Loan, who sneered down at her bowl like it just called her a dirty name.

"I don't think you'd like where we're going," Mr. Loud said at length.

Lizy tilted her head. "Where are you going?"

"The art museum," Mr. Loud replied. Gwen looked up just as he winked at Lemy.

"Ew, gross, that place is butt."

"The museum of natural history is a more intellectually stimulating option, Lincoln," Lisa said from between Lola and Leni, "art is aesthetically pleasing but ultimately inconsequential."

Luna blew a raspberry. "Art's the Tobasco of life, man, really?"

"Tabasco lacks nuternal value," Lisa said and took a bite of her cereal, "as does art. Especially rock music."

There was a challenging edge in her voice that made Gwen's heart race. They were going to argue and she didn't like arguing.

Luna laughed harshly. "What was that, ABBA?"

"You heard me, Sinead O'Connor."

Luna started to reply, but Lori held up her hand. "Can you two stop? You bickering is literally the last thing I feel like putting up with right now."

Lisa humphed and Luna clucked her tongue. As she finished her cereal, Gwen watched them from the corner of her eye, just in case, but after a few tense minutes it was like nothing had ever happened.

And that was the strangest thing about this family - that they could argue and get over it without spending hours or even days stewing in dark silence.

It was also the thing she liked best about them.

* * *

Three hours later, Gwen gazed out the window as Royal Woods flashed by; it was warm for November, and everyone was out enjoying the weather, the sidewalks flanking Main Street packed with pedestrians in bright, summery clothes and the doors of shops propped invitingly open.

She and Lemy were sitting in the back of the van, their finger entwined, her leg hooked over his and his free hand resting on her knee. Mr. Loud sat behind the wheel, his eyes occasionally darting to the rearview mirror and then away. Since leaving the house, none of them had spoken, and Gwen still didn't know where they were going, which made her just a little anxious. Lemy glanced at her, and she gave him a pretty smile/hand squeeze.

"So," Mr. Loud finally said as he spun the wheel and turned onto Route 29, "we're not really going to the art museum. That was a lie."

Lemy nodded. "Kinda figured. You're not really into art. Right?"

"Unless it's of superheroes kicking bad guys' asses, no," Mr. Loud replied. The buildings lining the street fell away as it left town. Across a green metal truss bridge, the highway opened up, vast farms spreading across the hilly terrain. "I couldn't tell Lizy where we were really going because she'd want to come, and I wanted it to just be us this time."

"W-Where are we going?" Gwen spoke up.

Mr. Loud looked into the mirror. "The Pizza Dungeon."

Gwen's brow furrowed. It would be impolite to say so out loud, but The Pizza Dungeon was a mess: It was dirty, the arcade games were all broken (the last time she went there with Marsha's family, Pac-Man had a screwdriver handle in place of a joystick), and the floors were so tacky that your shoes stuck to them. On the upside, the pizza was really good, like oh my God. It was even better than Pissy's, and Pissy's was the best.

Lemy turned to her, the expression on his face telling her he wasn't exactly thrilled with his Dad's choice of venue. The Pizza Dungeon appealed more toward kids, and Lemy was the kind of guy to sneer at that kind of thing and blow a raspberry. I'm way too cool for this place. He was cool, yes, and handsome, and sweet, and kind, and...you get the picture...but he needed to loosen up. "It'll be fun, Freak," she said and touched his cheek "There's a ball pit." She spoke the last three words in an enticing singsong voice.

"Oh, joy," he replied sarcastically.

Momentarily, they pulled into the parking lot: The building was corrugated metal with large rust spots. Some of the windows were boarded up and the sign was missing letters. T E PIZZ DUNGE N. A picture of the mascot was painted underneath the word DUNGEON, a dinosaur in sunglasses and wearing a bandana tied around its head like Tupac. Its arms were crossed and it leaned slightly back, looking for all the world like a nineties gangsta rapper trying too hard.

Mr. Loud pulled into a spot next to a pick-up truck "Alright, here we are," he said, "who wants to have fun?"

Lemy pursed his lips.

Feeling put on the spot, Gwen raised her hand a little. "Me."

Mr. Loud smiled. "Great. Let's go."

Inside, it was dim, like a cave. Tables filled the middle of the floor while booths lined the far wall. Arcade games marched along the flanking wall; there was a foosball table, a pinball machine, skeeball, one of those claw thingies filled with stuffed animals, and, in a corner, a McDonald's like playground rig complete with tunnels, tubes, and a ball pit. To the left was a stage, and as they made their way to a booth, the curtains parted and jazzy pop music began to play. Gwen and Lemy both looked over, and a man in a dinosaur suit came out and started blowing a sax; his eyes were covered by thick sunglasses and a bandana was wrapped around his forehead. People in Pizza Dungeon uniforms backed him on guitar, drums, and bongos; they danced in place, wide, phoney smiles plastered to their faces.

Boom boom acka-lacka lacka boom

Boom boom acka-lacka boom boom

Lemy sighed. "Ugh, it's Dino the Hip Hop Dragon. This guy sucks."

Kids clustered around the stage like screaming Beatles fans; Gwen was pretty sure a little black girl threw her diaper at him. .

Stepping to a mic, Dino began to sing.

It was a night like this forty million years ago

I lit a cigarette, picked up a monkey skull to go

A pimply teenager strumming a bass leaned into his own mic and sang. His voice was shockingly deep.

The sun was spitting fire, the sky was blue as ice

I felt a little tired, so I watched Miami Vice

Mr. Loud lifted a brow. "This is the strangest goddamn restaurant…"

At a booth, he slid in on one side and Gwen and Lemy sat on the other. Used napkins were crumpled on the unwashed table, and with a sneer of disgust, Mr. Loud flicked them onto the floor; Gwen's foot brushed something, and she looked underneath to find empty cups, moldy pizza slices, and - used condoms? - littering the floor. Oh, God!

Dat pizza, tho.

Lemy glanced over his shoulder. Dino and his group danced wildly, the keyboardist spinning around and raking his fingers across the keys.

Open the door, get on the floor

Everybody walk the dinosaur

Open the door, get on the floor

Everybody walk the dinosaur

"That's not even hip hop, it's Was Not Was."

Mr. Loud, elbows propped on the edge of the table and hands fisted at his mouth, shrugged. "Don't try to make sense of this place, son, you'll drive yourself crazy."

A woman in a red PIZZA DUNGEON t-shirt came over and whipped out an order pad. "Hi, welcome to Pizza Dungeon, home of the extra thicc sausage pizza. What can I get you to drink?"

"Uh, Coke," Lemy said.

The woman winced. "We don't have Coke. We have Faygo, Mountain Lightning, Cherry Chiller, and Sam's Club Soda."

"Seriously?" Lemy asked. "You guys used to have Coke."

The woman nodded. "That was before the lawsuit."

Mr. Loud lifted his brows.

"Just give me Faygo."

The woman jotted in her pad then looked at Gwen. "I'll have Cherry Chiller, please."

She looked at Mr. Loud next. "You have beer, right?"

She nodded. "Yes, we have Natty Ice, Steel City Reserve, and Alamo."

Mr. Loud's brow crinkled. "I'll just have water."

"Tap okay?"

He sighed. "Just give me Natty."

"Alright, I'll be right back to take your order."

She hurried off, and Lemy and Mr. Loud both looked after her, matching expressions of puzzlement on their face. Onstage, Dino did a split and drew himself back to his feet as he played the sax.

Open the door, get on the floor

Everybody walk the dinosaur

Open the door, get on the floor

Everybody walk the dinosaur

"Do you remember Leia's sixth birthday?" Mr. Loud asked. "When Dino gave her a shirtless picture of himself with the cake."

Lemy snickered. "Oh, shit, yeah, I do. It had his phone number on it."

Gwen uttered shocked laughter. "What?"

Mr. Loud nodded. "Yep. And we didn't know until me and Lemy found her talking to him."

Lemy chuckled. "They were having phone sex. 'That's right, cum for Dino.' Dad picked up the phone like 'Who's this?' Then hung up like a bitch."

"He threatened to shoot me," Mr. Loud said defensively. "Guy's a nutcase."

"When I was seven he asked me if I wanted to buy some good-good," Gwen said, then frowned. "I still don't know what he was talking about."

"Drugs," Mr. Loud said.

"I know, but what kind?"

He rolled his eyes to the side in thought. "Huh. I dunno. Good-good's a pretty generic term. Did he show you anything? Flash a baggie to prove he was holding?"

Gwen shook her head. "No, he didn't do anything like that."

Lemy looked over his shoulder just as Dino stuck a perfect backflip.

Open the door, get on the floor

Everybody kill the dinosaur

Open the door, get on the floor

Everybody kill the dinosaur

Gwen followed his gaze; toddlers danced in front of the stage, one bouncing on bent knees but not leaving the floor and another shaking his diapered butt. A little girl about six tried to climb on, but two men in Pizza Dungeon uniforms dragged her off, threw her to the ground, and started beating her with foam billy clubs. She thrashed and laughed. "Harder, Orville!" one of them said.

"Lemy?" Mr. Loud asked, and Lemy turned. "Go get some tokens from the cashier." He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and removed a crisp twenty dollar bill. He held it across the table, and Lemy took it then got up. Gwen started to follow, but Mr. Loud stopped her. "Stay here," he said, "I want to talk."

Darn it.

Lemy looked from her to his father in indecision. Lincoln smiled and shooed him away. "Go get those tokens. I wanna play Pac-Man." Lemy looked at her again, and she nodded. Go on...I guess. He nodded back then started across the room toward a counter.

Gwen and Mr. Loud both watched him go, then Mr. Loud turned his head. She kept her eyes on Lemy's butt, too timid to look the old man in the face. "I'll never know how that guy does all those moves in that suit," he said to make conversation; there was a halting inflection in his voice that told Gwen he was just as nervous as she was. That was kind of reassuring.

"I don't know," she said, taking that opportunity to look at Dino instead of Mr. Loud: The song abruptly ended, and he leaned back, his arms crossing. Word. The kids went crazy, screaming and clapping and stomping their feet. "Or why kids like him so much. He's creepy."

A blush spread across her face. Oh, no, what if he thought she meant that to apply to him too or something? She stole a sidelong glance at him; his hands were still balled, his chin resting on his thumbs and his bent index finger covering his mouth. His eyes were firmly on the stage, where Dino and his pals were talking. Dino went up to the mic and took it in his hand. "Alright, y'all," he said, "who got a request?"

Someone called out but they were too far away for Gwen to hear. Dino leaned toward them and cupped his ear. "What was that, nigga? You said Shinedown?" He turned to his band and nodded. The keyboardist played a light melody and the drummer tapped his snare...then the guitarist kicked in with a blistering riff. Dino started to nod his head and the kids went nuts.

Wait, wait a minute take a step back

you gotta think twice before you react

so stay, stay a little while

Because a Promise not kept is the road to exile

Mr. Loud turned to her. "So, uh, how are you settling in?"

"Alright," she nodded, "I...I really appreciate you letting me stay with you."

Dino jumped, knees bending, and threw an energetic punch at the air.

HEY! what's the circumstance

you'll never be great without taking a chance so

wait, you waited too long

had your hands in your pocket

when you shoulda been gone

The band leaned into their mics.

Boom-Lay Boom-Lay BOOM!

One push is all you'll need

Boom-Lay Boom-Lay BOOM!

A fist first philosophy.

More kids crowded around the stage, jumping, bouncing, spinning, moshing; a little boy about six punched a toddler in the back of the head, and a girl responded by throwing her body at him and shoving him back. A fat boy roughly Lemy's age stripped out of his shirt and helicoptered it over his head; his fat rolled like a stormy sea and his cavernous belly button winked suggestively.

"D-Don't mention it," Mr. Loud said haltingly. His attention, like Gwen's, was on the riotous congregation. "Has...has your mother tried to get in contact with you?"

Turning away from the scene, Gwen shook her head. "No," she said, "and I kind of hope she doesn't."

Boom-Lay Boom-Lay BOOM!

We watch with wounded eyes

Boom-Lay Boom-Lay BOOM!

So I hope you recognize

Mr. Loud nodded. "I...I just want you to know that...I'm sorry for what you went through. None of it was your fault, you did nothing wrong; you're a great girl."

"Thank you," Gwen said with a blush of embarrassment.

The waitress came over and sat their drinks on the table. Instead of glasses they were in red solo cups. "What can I get you to eat?"

"Just a large pepperoni pizza please," Mr. Loud said, then looked at Gwen, "unless you want something else."

She shook her head. She didn't feel comfortable asking for things from the Louds, and she felt even more uncomfortable taking things, like the clothes Lola and Leni bought her. God, she was such charity case.

That made her want to cry.

DAMN! damn it all down

took one to the chest without even a sound so

What! What are you worth?

the things you love or the people you hurt

Dino banged his head and pumped his fist; a sea of kids ranging in age from two to twelve filled the space in front of the stage, each one of them doing their own violent dance.

HEY! it's like deja vu

a suicidal maniac with nothing to lose

so wait, it's the exception to the rule

everyone of us is EXPENDABLE

"Are you getting along with everyone okay?" Mr. Loud asked.

Gwen hesitated then nodded. "Yeah."

He lifted his brow questioningly, and Gwen's heartbeat sped up. She didn't want to upset him by saying anything bad about his daughters, but there was a part of her deep, deep down that wanted to open up. "I just...I don't like Lupa and Loan like me very much." She couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke. "That's all. They haven't done anything, just...a feeling, I guess."

He took a deep breath, and for a horrible moment she thought she said the wrong thing and made him mad. "Well...Lupa is...how do I say this? She's kind of a poser." Gwen looked up at him, her brow furrowing. "She has this...thing about being 'tough.' Why, I don't know. I dated a girl like her once, and it...it got really old. It's almost like she's afraid of being weak or something. It doesn't make a lot of sense to me, but it's basically a front. Loan...well...Loan doesn't like anybody." He looked up as Lemy slipped into the booth next to Gwen and sat a plastic cup on the table.

"Can you believe those assholes are really playing Shinedown? I said that shit just joking. I didn't think they'd actually do it."

I'm on the front line

don't worry I'll be fine

the story is just beginning

I say goodbye to my weakness

so long to the regret

and now I know that I'm alive

"I believe it alright," Mr. Loud said. "Like I said, this place makes no sense." He glanced at the cup of tokens. "If you kids wanna go play games, go on. I'll wait for the pizza"

Lemy looked and Gwen. "You wanna?"

"Sure," she said.

He got up and she followed, taking his hand and squeezing it as they made their way through the seething mass of kids. "Did Dad put the moves on you?" he asked over the music; he sounded like he was only half joking.

"No," she said, "we just talked." They were standing in front the games now. Half of them were dark, the screen of one flashes a broken shade of white, and the remaining ones were in various states of decrepitude. Gwen read the names printed on them and squinted. "Pong? What's that?" she asked, turning to Lemy.

"It's a boring ass seventies game," he said, "it's literally two lines and a dot. Like tennis."

Onstage, the guitarist fell to his knees and shredded wildly, his face clenched and his head bobbing. Dino dropped to the floor and started to do The Worm. "What's Dig Dug?"

Lemy opened his mouth, then closed it again. "That game's actually fun."

"Cool. Let's play it." She went over to the game cabinet and looked over her shoulder; Lemy was staring at the stage, where the band was dispersing, Dino wiping under his armpits with a towel. He climbed off and made his way through the crowd, which mobbed him like he was Jesus and they a bunch of blind beggars. "You coming, Freak?"

Lemy glanced at her. "You say he tried to sell your drugs?"

"Yes," Gwen said, "why?"

"I'm almost outta bud. I wanna see if I can score some off him."

Gwen blinked. "Uh, I don't think that's such a good idea."

Dino was making his way toward them now. Before Gwen could protest, Lemy stepped in front of him and flashed a nervous smile. Dino froze and looked the boy up and down. Uh-oh. "Hey, Dino, good show," Lemy said.

"Nigga," Dino said, "what'chu want?"

Lemy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, I was wondering if...if maybe you were, you know...holding?"

Dino considered for a moment. "That depends on you, my nigga. Yo' daddy give you allowance?"

Gwen looked from Lemy to Dino and back again.

"Yeah," Lemy said, reaching into his back pocket. He brought out his wallet, opened it, and pulled out a ten dollar bill. "Let me get a dime bag."

Dino looked at the money, then Lemy. "Nigga, what the fuck is that? Ten dollars? Nigga, you crazy. Gimme twenty."

"Twenty? Dude, come on, it's a dime bag."

Without a word, Dino brushed past him and started toward the back. "Alright! Damn!" Lemy slipped out another ten. "Here."

Dino turned, took it, and reached into a hitherto unseen pocket, bringing out a cellophane baggie filled with green and dropping it into Lemy's hand. "Pleasure doing bidness with' chu."

With that, he started off, and Lemy grinned. "Wow. I bought weed from Dino." He went over to the cabinet and leaned next to Gwen. "This day can't get any crazier." He untwisted the baggie and brought it to his nose. He took a big whiff...and frowned.

"What?" Gwen asked.

He sniffed again. "This isn't pot...it's oregano." His face flushed with anger; he pushed away from the cabinet and stalked after Dino.

"Lemy!"

"Hey, ripoff!" Lemy called. Dino stopped and turned his head. "Yeah, you, what the fuck, bro? You didn't' think I'd notice?"

Gwen's heart started to race. This wasn't good. Dino was a scary guy and he might hurt Lemy; she couldn't let that happen. She hurried over just as Lemy and Dino came face-to-face.

"You best get yo' lil' headband wearin' ass out my grill, nigga."

Lemy's jaw clenched. "Give me back my money."

"You gon' take it, nigga?" Dino asked and squared up.

Gwen put her hand on Lemy's shoulder. "Lemy, let's go."

Dino nodded. "That's right. Listen to yo' lil' girlfriend, nigga. Girl hair looks like a dick, that's why you like her, huh, nigga?"

Flashing, Lemy threw a punch that connected with Dino's gut. The dragon stumbled back a step, then, like lightning, snatched him by the front of his shirt; Gwen cried out in fear. "You done fucked up now, nigga." He cocked his fist and Lemy squeezed his eyes closed like a man standing before firing squad. Acting fast, Gwen threw herself at him, her palms jamming into his stomach. He dropped Lemy and grabbed her wrist; pain streaked up her arm and she hissed over clenched teeth.

"Hey!"

Gwen jerked over her shoulder; Mr. Loud was hurrying over and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. "Get your hands off her, you piece of shit."

Dino shoved her aside, and she fell to the floor in a heap. "The fuck you just say?" Dino asked as he walked up to Mr. Loud. "Nigga, I will whip yo' ass, shut up."

"I'd like to see you try," Mr. Loud sneered.

Dino threw a punch and Mr. Loud's head whipped to one side; he followed up with another to his stomach, and he doubled over with a breathless umph. Lemy shot up and ran at the dinosaur's back, leaping into the air and crashing down on him with a cry, his arms wrapping around his neck. Dino stumbled to one side and fell into an arcade cabinet; it tipped over and hit the floor with a loud crash. Lemy held fast as Dino tried to shake him off; Mr. Loud recovered and sucker punched the mascot in the side of the face.

Gwen got to her feet as a gang of employees rushed over. Dino went to his knees, and Mr. Loud punched him again while Lemy choked him from behind. Mr. Loud went to throw another punch, but two men in Pizza Dungeon uniforms grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground.

"Call the police!" one of them cried.

Dino clawed madly at Lemy's forearms, then toppled over and lay still, unconscious. A man snatched Lemy off his back and slammed him face first into the wall. "Let me go, fag!"

Standing there, with Mr. Loud's arm being twisted behind his back on one side and Lemy being restrained on the other, Gwen felt so lost and overwhelmed that all she could do was cry.


	4. Four in a Cell

**Guest: Sure I do, Lio gave me one a long time ago and I never used it. I don't think he's black, but whatever, he still gave it to me.**

* * *

**Lyrics to In The Jailhouse Now by Jimmie Rodgers (1928); Check Yo Self by Ice Cube (1992)**

"This is bullshit," Lemy growled and slammed his palm against the bars, producing a thrumming metallic sound. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head in disgust. Lincoln sat on he bench next to Gwen, who hugged herself and stared down at her lap; his hands were splayed on his knees and his eyes were pointed at the concrete floor...it was cracked and dirty. No surprise there. At the end of the bench, a man with long, scraggly hair blew into a harmonica, the sound high and reedy. He wore a tattered jacket over a rotting hoodie, sweat pants filled with holes, and grimy tennis shoes, the soles of which hung on by only a thread; he occasionally tapped his foot, and the sole slapped limply. Gwen's body was pressed close to Lincoln's...as far away from the hobo as possible.

"It's gonna be okay," he said awkwardly and patted her knee, "Luna's gonna be here soon and we'll go home."

Across the hall, Dino, still in his full suit, stared out from the other holding cell, his hands wrapped around the bars. "You a bitch nigga," he said, "lil headband wearin, goofy daddy havin, gay lookin punk nigga."

"Fuck you," Lemy snarled.

"Imma come out this cell and whip yo' ass."

"Yeah?" Lemy asked, pressing his face to the bars. "I'll choke you out...like I did last time."

"Sneak attackin nigga, come at me like a man."

"Fuck you!"

Lincoln sighed. "Lemy, ignore him."

The hobo ran his lips over the harmonica and slapped his sole in time. Gwen trembled slightly, and Lincoln stared to put a comforting arm around her, but stopped and looked at Lemy instead, who was flipping Dino off. "Lemy," he said firmly, and the boy glanced over his shoulder. Lincoln nodded to Gwen. She needs you right now.

Lemy understood, sighed, and came over. Lincoln got up and Lemy took his place, putting his arm around Gwen's shoulders. She melted into him and he kissed her forehead. Crossing his arms, Lincoln leaned one shoulder against the wall; it was cold, cinderblock, and covered in graffiti and brown water spots. So this is where my tax dollars go, Lincoln thought as he looked around. The least they can do is scrub the dried blood off the floor.

The tramp tapped his foot and started to sing in a cracked and broken voice.

I had a friend named The Ramblin' Bob

He used to steal, gamble, and rob

He thought he was the smartest guy around

Well I found out last Monday

That Bob got locked up Sunday

They've got him in the jailhouse way downtown

Lincoln rolled his eyes. Jesus. Across the way, Dino was running his mouth and throwing up gang signs, bouncing from one foot to the other in what Lincoln thought was a sloppy Crip walk. Lemy rubbed Gwen's arm and she looked up at him with a wan smile. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but she looked better than she had a few moments ago. Lincoln sighed; he felt awful about this. He just wanted to bond with her, and Lemy too, and he got them thrown in jail. To be fair, that bastard Dino put his hands on his kids, what the hell else was he supposed to do? Stand there and take it like a bitch?

Well I told him once or twice

To stop playin' cards and a-shootin' dice

He's in the jailhouse now

Lemy leaned to see around Gwen. "Hey, man, can you knock it off?"

Instead, the hobo started to yodel.

Ah di o-dalee eehee dee-o ti

Ah di o-dalee ee oh dee-o ti

He slapped his knee and tapped his foot, his head nodding. Lincoln winced and rubbed his just-beginning-to-ache temples.

"Nigga, I ain't tryna listen to that hillbilly shit," Dino called. "Cease and fucking desist, nigga."

Yodelayee-hee

Yodelayee-hee

Yodelay-eeee

"'Ight, nigga, you wanna sing?" Dino asked. "Let's sing." He started to shuck and jive, his hands gesturing wildly.

You better check yo self before you wreck yo self

'Cause I'm bad for your health

I come real stealth

Dropping bombs on your moms

Fuck car alarms

Doing foul crime

I'm that nigga wit'cha Alpine

Sold it for a six-o, always let tricks know

And friends know we got that indo

Lincoln groaned loudly. Stuck between Tupac and The Soggy Bottom Boys. Just his luck. Doing his best to ignore them, he looked at Gwen. Damn it, we're gonna bond even if it's in jail. "You ever been locked up, Gwen?"

She shook her head. "No. This is my first time."

"Nigga, I did fifteen in the state pen!" Dino called. "You can't see me, nigga!"

"Me too," Lincoln said, "I've never even gotten a traffic ticket."

Yodelayee-hee

Yodelayee-hee

Yodelay-eeee

No I'm not a sucker sitting in a House of Pain

And no I'm not the butler, I'll cut ya

Head-butt ya, you say you can't touch this

And I wouldn't touch ya, punk mothafucka

Lincoln cringed. He was starting to get really irritated. "Let's play a game," he said, "to pass the time."

"Nigga, I got that game right here!" Dino yelled and shuffled his feet, his shoulders shrugging up and down.

Gwen and Lemy both looked at Lincoln like he was crazy. "What kind of game can we play in a fucking jail cell?" Lemy asked, "hide and seek?"

Hm. Lincoln thought for a moment, then it hit him. "Twenty questions." He looked at Gwen. "You go first. What's..uh...what's your middle name?"

For a moment Gwen regarded him with a raised brow. "Marie," she said haltingly.

"Favorite food?"

"Lil punk bitches like you, nigga! Breakfast of champions, nigga!"

"P-Pizza, I guess."

Dino moonwalked back and forth in front of the bars, his hand cupping his crotch.

I hate motherfuckers claiming that they folding bank

But steady talking shit in the holding tank

First you wanna step to me?

Now your ass screaming for the deputy

The hobo shook his head slowly back and forth as if really feeling the music.

Bob like to play his poker

Pinochle, whist and euchre

But shootin' dice

Was his favorite game

But he got throwed in jail

With nobody to go his bail

Lincoln's hands curled into fists; what could they do if he kicked Ralph Stanley's ass then built a zip gun and shot Barney? He was already in jail, what, extra jail? "Favorite movie?"

"The one where I whip yo ass, nigga!"

Gwen thought for a moment. "Indiana Jones." She looked at Lemy and grinned. "He showed it to me."

"That's a good one," Lincoln said earnestly, "what's your favorite part?"

She didn't have to the think about that at all. "Where the guy's coming at him with the sword…"

"And Indy shoots his ass."

They both laughed. "You know that wasn't supposed to happen."

Gwen blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Indy was supposed to fight him with a sword…"

Lemy nodded. "Yeah, but Harrison Ford was sick with dysentery or something and had to shit, so when that scene came up he whipped out the gun, fired, and rushed off. They liked it so much they changed the script."

Lincoln pointed proudly at his son. "Exactly."

He's in the jailhouse now

He's in the jailhouse now

Well I told him once or twice

To stop playin' cards and a-shootin' dice

He's in the jailhouse now

They send you to Charlie-Baker-Denver row

Now they runnin' up in you slow

You're gone, used to be the Don Juan

Now your name is just Twan

Switch it, snap it, rolling your eyes and neck

You better run a check

"Favorite animal?"

She scrunched her lips to the side. "Cats."

"Favorite singer?"

"Ariana Grande."

Lincoln and Lemy both winced. "What?" Gwen laughed, "she's good."

Lemy shook his head slowly and pulled her closer, as if to show that he still loved her even though he thought her taste in music sucked. Lincoln felt the same way about Lisa; he loved her to death but her disco drove him up the wall. Lola's music, too, come to think of it.

"What's your favorite thing to do?"

Gwen opened her mouth, then blushed furiously, a light creeping into her eyes. Lincoln cocked his head questioningly, and she looked away, a smile dancing at the corner of her lips. "What is it?" Lincoln pressed.

"Nothing," she said, "it's...the first thing that came to mind was...nothing." She stared demurely down at her lap.

"What?" Lemy asked and rubbed her back. "If it's funny, man, I could use some humor."

Ah di o-dalee eehee dee-o ti

Ah di o-dalee ee oh dee-o ti

Yodelayee-hee

Yodelayee-hee

Yodelay-eeee

Gwen hesitated, then giggled. "I was going to say 'your son'"

Silence.

Then Lemy and Lincoln both snickered. "Well, technically, he counts," Lincoln said, "so…"

Lemy turned his head to her. "You're my favorite thing to do. And I mean that in, like, in every sense of the word." She smiled and they kissed, then Lemy looked over his shoulder. "While we're on the topic, I have a question."

"Shoot," Lincoln said and squatted, his butt against the wall and his forearms resting on his knees.

The boy started to speak, stopped, seemed to think, then asked, "What's the most women you've been with at once?"

Lincoln blushed, hyper aware of Gwen's presence. Recounting his sexual exploits in front of her wasn't something he wanted to do. Just the thought of it made him feel...wrong. Grown man talking sex in front of a little girl. How fucked up is that? Then again, didn't he have sex with his own daughters?

Hypocrite, party of one. "Thirteen," he said.

Gwen and Lemy both recoiled. "Holy shit," Lemy said, "how did that work?"

"Not very well," Lincoln admitted. "A lot of them wound up standing around."

"I knew it," Lemy said, "that's exactly what I thought would happen. I was wondering if I could get every girl in the house at once, but nah, man, it'd be too much."

Lincoln nodded. "It would be. It really would." He dropped to his butt and propped his legs up in an M. "You think you want it, but trust me, you don't. I had thirteen girls and had to get each one of them off. You know how tired I was by the end of it?" He shook his head. "Most days I'm exhausted and they won't leave me alone. As soon as I come through the door it's 'Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.'" He shook his head, something close to bitterness squeezing his chest. To someone standing on the outside...probably to Lemy, he realized...it looked like he was living the dream: Big harem of girls always wet and ready. But the truth was…

"It's overwhelming," he said, "but I just...I'm too nice. I don't like saying no and hurting their feelings."

Lemy stared at his father in surprise. He had no idea Dad wasn't loving every minute of it like Loverboy in 1982. "Wow, uh, that rough, huh?"

"Yep," Lincoln said with a nod.

"Well...have you talked to them?" Gwen asked.

Lincoln shook his head. "No," he said heavily, "like I said, I'm a giant softie."

"You need to toughen up a little," Lemy said, "I know your dick's gotta be hurting."

Lincoln nodded. "The constant sex is killing me. It's not all their fault, I want it a lot too, but...sheesh." He could feel all the frustration he'd been holding inside for years beginning to bubble up, and when he tried to stop it, he realized he didn't want to...he wanted it off his chest. "I have Lynn who wants to have rough sex every single day, Lucy who likes it when I bite her and make her bleed, Leni who likes it slow and heartfelt, Lola who wants me to treat her like trash, piss on her, cum on her, Luna who likes it fast like a fucking rock song, and that's just my sisters. WIth my daughters, I have Lupa who can't get enough, Liena who likes it like her mother, Lyra who likes it faster than her mother, Leia who I can't even fit in, so I basically rub her clit with my dick, and my dick head is sensitive so I don't even enjoy it...thank God Liby and Lacy got together and stopped coming to me. I dread the day Lizy turns up at my door in nothing but her undies. Daddy, can we play? Ugh! Give me just five minutes."

He looked up, and realized that everyone was staring at him: Gwen, Lemy, the hobo, his harmonica frozen halfway to his mouth, and Dino, his face pressed against the bars and his hands wrapped around, looking enrapt as if at a good story. "Goddamn, nigga."

The hobo flashed a smile, revealing crooked and rotten teeth. "Sounds like you have too much of a good thing, mister."

Lincoln nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I do. I was hoping they'd all gravitate toward Lemy, and it seems like that's finally starting to happen a fuck. Keeping almost twenty women satisfied isn't a one man job."

"Nigga, send 'em here," DIno said.

"I can take one or two," the hobo added. He leered at Gwen. "You wanna ride the rails, honey?"

"Hey, fuck you," Lemy spat "you fucking look at her and I'll knock your ass out."

The hobo held his hands up, palms out, in a supplicating gesture, then went back to playing his harmonica. "That's what I thought," Lemy said and tightened his grip around Gwen's shoulders. She smiled and rested her head against his chest, her hand going to his stomach. She snuggled closer and a look of deep spiritual contentment came over her features.

She turned her eyes to Lincoln; they were hazy with her love for Lemy. "You should talk to them," she said, "you're a good Dad, they can't be too upset."

Lincoln sighed. "I just don't want to let them down. The way I let Lemy down." He looked at Lemy and their eyes briefly met, then Lemy glanced away as if to spare himself seeing the raw emotion in his father's face. "I know I really hurt you, and that still bothers the hell out of me." He drew a deep breath; a stray tear slid down his cheek.

"H-Hey, man, it's okay," Lemy said uncomfortably, "it's water under the bridge."

"No," Lincoln said, "it's not. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself."

"You should," Lemy said, "because...you know...I do." He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck; his cheeks were red and he coughed nervously. Gwen lifted her head and looked into his eyes, then nodded toward Lincoln. Lemy made no move to get up, and she pushed him.

Sighing, he got up and went over to Lincoln, his gaze downcast. "You're a chill dude," Lemy said, "and, uh…" he held out his arms.

Grinning, Lincoln got to his feet and swept his son into a tight embrace; Lemy's eyes bugged out of his head and his breath left him in a rush as his father crushed his spine, but he hugged him back anyway, a tiny, satisfied smile creeping across his lips.

The hobo grinned and, across the hall, Dino sniffed. "That's the sweetest shit ever, nigga."

Lincoln released one arm and held it out to Gwen. She looked undecided for a moment. "Come on," Lincoln said, "get in here."

She smiled, got up, and came over; Lincoln and Lemy each slipped one arm around her and they all held each other close.

They were still hugging when a guard unlocked the door and opened it. "Alright, Louds, ya made bail."

Lincoln let go and put one arm around Lemy's shoulders and the other around Gwen's. "Let's go home."

As they left the cell, th guard glanced over his shoulder at Dino and did a double take. "Sir, remove the dinosaur mask."

"This a dragon mask, nigga."

"Remove it."

"But -"

"Now."

Dino sighed and took the head off. Lincoln's jaw dropped; instead of the burly black man he was expecting, Dino was a scrawny white kid, no older than sixteen, with acne, thick black glasses, and buck teeth. "Dino?" he blurted.

Dino glanced shamefaced at his feet. "My real name's Sherman," he said in a high, breaking voice. "I'm only Dino part time."

Lincoln, Lemy, and Gwen all looked at each other.

Then burst out laughing.

"Stop," Sherman whined. "Don't laugh at me. Nigga."

They were still laughing as the guard lead them into the squad room, where Luna stood with her arms crossed and her brow pinched severely. When Lincoln saw her, he immediately sobered. Uh-oh. When she looked like that, you were in trouble. Lemy and Gwen both froze and Luna nodded sourly. "Yeah, man, real funny. You wanna know what's really hilarious? Me spending five hundred bucks we don't have to bail you guys out."

"Look," Lincoln said, "I can explain."

Luna held up her hand. 'I am not into hearing it right now, man, it's your fault."

Lincoln sighed. When they got home, they were going to argue.

-One Hour Later-

Luna straddled Lincoln and pinned his shoulders to the bed; her eyes were cold and hard and her mouth was screwed up in a sneer of displeasure. Lincoln put his hands on her hips, and she hissed. "Don't touch me."

He laid them flat at his sides; she grabbed his shirt in both hands and sank herself roughly onto his dick. Lincoln winced, and Luna hummed. "Did that hurt?"

"A little."

She bent over and pressed the tip of her nose to his. "Good." She lifted her butt, then slammed back down, her wet, pillowy walls stroking his length. "You fucked up real bad today, man. Our son and his girl have a fucking rap sheet now." She lifted, then slammed, lifted, then slammed.

"That fucking Dino was beating up on them, Luna," he said, "what should I have done?"

She rolled her hips on the way up then stroked forward; his dick rubbed along her insides and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"N-Not f-fucking fight him," she said and dug her nails into his shoulders.

"So just l-let him wail on the k-kids," he stammered, "smart."

She wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezed, her lips peeling back from her teeth in an angry grimace. Lincoln's own anger flashed, and he threw her off of and mounted her. She thrashed beneath him, her struggle increasing when he rammed his dick deep into her burning loins. "Some faggot put his hands on Lemy and Gwen," he said and thrusted as hard as he could, "so I did what any father would." He was pounding her now, his hips flying back and forth and his hands pressing her breasts flat against her chest.

Luna looked up at him with spite filled eyes. 'Y-You shoulda got t-them outta there and c-called the cops."

He drew back and surged forward, crashing against her cervix and making her wince. "I reacted, okay? I saw him doing it and...I lost it."

She wrapped her legs around his waist and snatched a handful of his shirt. "I g-get it, o-okay? But d-damn, dude."

Lincoln bowed his head. An image flashed through his mind: Lemy in a heap on the floor and Gwen's wrist clutched in Dino's hand, her eyes wide with terror. His pace slackened, then stopped completely. "When I saw that," he said seriously, "I was more petrified and pissed off than I've ever been in my life. You should have seen their faces. They both looked so scared it fucking killed me."

Luna cupped his cheek in her hand and he looked up at her. She smiled weakly. "Linc, man...I'm sorry. I just...I was scared too, ya know? You called me from fucking jail, dude."

"I know," he said, "and I'm sorry."

She leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. "You're a good dude," she said, "and a good dad."

"I don't feel like it sometimes," he confessed, "sometimes I feel like a total fuck up."

"You aren't," she said, and kissed him again, more slowly this time, less innocently, her tongue tracing his bottom lip.

Lincoln's passion swelled, and he kissed her back. She laid back against the bed, and he thrusted into her, more tenderly this time. She ran her fingers through his hair and moved into every one of his forward motions.

Neither lasted very long. Argument sex followed by I'm sorry sex was a real turn on for both.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Lemy and Gwen were having just-got-out-of-jail sex.

And you...you're not having any sex.

Loser.


	5. Loan Me Some Time

**Lyrics to Where It's At by Beck (1996)**

Gwen stirred, yawned, and rolled over, her arm reaching out and her hand seeking Lemy's soft, warm chest; instead it found only empty bed, and she frowned. Huh? She pried her tired eyes open and winced at the bright December sunshine filling the room. Beside her, Lemy's spot was cold, the sheets rumpled and the blanket twisted as though he'd gotten up in a hurry. Her brows furrowed in puzzlement and her sleep fogged mind began to work, the cogs and gears kicking into drive and turning with a rusty shriek. Usually, she was up before Lemy. In fact, he called her my little alarm clock...which made her smile every time: She loved his pet names - baby, honey, gurl, cum dumpster. Lol, he only used that last one once when they were having sex. That's right, he said as he expanded against her walls, Daddy's little cum dumpster. It was so random that she burst out laughing...and you know how laughing (or coughing) with a dick in you feels? Not very good...for you or your partner.

Anyway, where was - ?

Then she remembered. It was Saturday, and Lemy and his dad were picking up trash at the side of the highway as part of their community service over the whole Dino thing last month. Dino himself was still in jail; they wouldn't give him bond or whatever because of all the stuff they found in his suit - every drug known to man, three illegal handguns, a sawed off shotgun, and an issue of Kiddie Porn Monthly. The last she heard, he slipped and said 'nigga' in front of a bunch of black guys and they beat him up.

She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and blew a puff of air that rustled her bangs. She didn't like Saturdays - when Lemy wasn't around, she felt jittery and restless. Nervous, too, because when she was alone, she felt like even more of an intruder here than she already did. She'd lock herself in the room and wait for him to come back, but she didn't want to look rude or something, so she forced herself to go downstairs and socialize, usually with Leia or Leni. Leni was super nice and Gwen felt more comfortable around her than she did anyone else beside Lemy and maybe Mr. Loud.

Okay, no, she felt more comfortable around Leni, but she no longer felt (too) uncomfortable around Mr Loud, so yay. There's that.

Come to think of it, she didn't feel uncomfortable around Liby or Lacy either. They were cool; a couple times she and Liby practiced Liby's - ahem - technique on Lacy, and Gwen was getting really good at it. The other day Lacy said You might be as good as Liby by the time we're done. That made her proud; now her goal was to make Lacy cum in less than three minutes like Liby did. If she hit that milestone, she'd consider the lessons a success.

Where was she? Oh, right. She wasn't uncomfortable around a lot them, but a few she kind of was. Like Loan and Lupa. And Lizy, too; every once in a while she'd catch Lizy giving her a look that said two more years and I'm coming for your man. Part of her wanted to approach her and tell her she was more than willing to share, but she was kind of afraid the little girl would literally bite her head off, then she would be dead :(

Despite not being as uncomfortable as she was when she first moved in, she still wasn't 100 percent at ease, and not having Lemy around made it worse.

Sigh. She'd just have to suck it up; he'd be home by four, and right now it was...nine. Seven hours. Not so long when you get right down to it. Nope. Not. At. All.

Swinging her legs over the side, she got out of bed and stretched, wincing when something in her back popped. Lemy's bed was so hard; she missed her old pillow top mattress. Oh, that thing was so comfy.

It was the only thing she missed from her old life.

At the door, she reached for the handle, but stopped, realizing she was in only panties and a tank top. She might not feel as awkward as she once did, but she still didn't feel at ease enough to parade around in her underwear like Leia. That girl rarely wore pants when she was at home. Why should I? Less to take off when I want to spend time with Dad or Lemy.

Eh. Makes sense.

Going to the dresser, she opened her drawer, but it caught on something. Huh? She closed it, and spotted a lump of fabric protruding from the drawer directly beneath it. She rolled her eyes and pushed it back in with her finger. Gee, Gwen, you don't have to fold my laundry this week, I'll do it. You're not a housewife and this isn't 195-fucking-3. No, she wasn't (though she kind of wanted to be, wink wink), and no, this wasn't, but she'd much rather do it herself than have his drawers a mess and his clothes wrinkled. God, she didn't even want to see what his drawers looked like; when she first moved in, they were so jumbled it made her hair turn white and fall out.

Not really, but it was..harrowing, to say the least...especially that crusty cum sock shoved into the very back of his pants drawer. Oh, hey, I was wondering where this went. Damn, I haven't seen this thing in, like, eight months.

Uh, I love your cum Lemy, but...ew!

Maybe after breakfast she'd check his clothes and see if they needed to be folded; it'd kill a little bit of time, at least.

Stripping out of her panties and tank top, she tossed them aside and got dressed, not realizing until she lifted her legs that she really had to pee.

Thankfully, there was no line for the bathroom and she was able to do her business without waiting forever and nearly going on the floor like a puppy (bad girl). Since she had seven hours to spend, she hopped in the shower when she was done, bathing languidly and letting the water cascade over her. Maybe she'd go to Marsha's house. Or to the park. Orrrr to the arcade? No, she didn't want to go there; she didn't want to go to any of those places...because Lemy wasn't there.

I know! I'll walk around and see if I can find him. He can't be far, I mean...there's more trash in town than there is on, like, Route 29, so it would make sense that they'd be close by. She tried to remember seeing people in orange vests picking up garbage, but couldn't, although she'd never had reason to look for them. On the other hand, being something she didn't see every day, it was likely she would have noticed it and committed it to memory. Regardless, there was a good chance he and his Dad were somewhere in Royal Woods, so she'd look. That's all. And if she found them, she'd watch from afar…

….aaaaaand I'm that crazy, clingy girlfriend meme.

That realization struck her like a bullet to the chest and her eyes widened. No, she wasn't like that, she just...she loved Lemy, and when you love someone, you naturally want to be with them, not hanging out with Marsha or clock watching at the arcade. Right? There's nothing wrong with wanting to spend your every waking moment with the boy you love...and always touching him and kissing him...and feeling a twinge of loss when he leaves the room...and wanting to track him down when he's away so you can watch him from a bush.

Oh, God, what if she was too clingy?

She thought back over every interaction she'd had with Lemy over the past week, searching for signs that he was annoyed with her, or felt smothered, or wanted her to fuck off and leave him alone, but couldn't find any. In fact, he touched and kissed her just as much as she touched and kissed him, and there were times she'd come out of the bathroom after a long shower (or a long poop) and find him randomly in the hall. Uh, hey, I was just, uh...checking the wall for dings. Heh. Lana always giving me busy work, you know?

That made her smile. Okay, guess there isn't a problem then, though she didn't want to slip and go too far with it. Today it was following him to the bathroom, tomorrow it would be tying him to the bed and breaking his feet off with a sledgehammer so he could never leave her. I'm your number one girlfriend.

Okay, I won't go looking for him like a weirdo, I'll just...do something else.

Done, she cut the spray, toweled off, and got dressed. She went back into the room, put her shoes on, then went downstairs, her stomach beginning to protest at beng empty. Feed me, Gwen. Okay, okay, sheesh.

Loan was in her usual spot on the couch, perched on the edge like a large bird, her forearms resting atop her legs and a video game controller in her hands. She stared at the TV screen, where a guy in a dumb space suit ran through a street flanked by blackened rubble.

Loan was...how to say this nicely...a total slacker. All she did was play video games. In fact, the cushion held a permanent imprint of her butt from sitting on it too much, and whatever money she managed to borrow from her parents went toward upgrades for her character. Seriously, this girl blew real money on fake stuff. Ooooh, look, my guy's pants are black now instead of green. Best 10.50 I ever spent.

Gwen didn't see the appeal, but it was her thing, so...whatever.

She started toward the kitchen, but froze when Loan spoke. "Hey, rich girl."

For a moment she was locked up like a deer in the headlights, her heart beginning to race and her stomach turning sickly at the prospect of trouble. Unfreezing, she turned her head: Loan's brow was arched down in an irritated V and the corners of her lips arranged in a sharp frown. A sea of empty Mountain Dew cans, Dorito bags, and Hot Pocket sleeves flooded the table; crumbs littered the couch, the floor, and Loan's sweater. Gwen's eyes went to the girl's fingers, and they were stained an eternal orange.

"H-Hey, Loan," she said, "what's up?"

Loan glared at her, and Gwen began to chafe. She was just starting to think about running away when the older girl spoke. "Wanna watch me play?"

Gwen missed a beat. What? Watch her play? Like...hang out with her? That was weird...like a KKK guy wanting to hang out with a black guy.

Loan watched her expectantly, and from the hard look in her eyes, Gwen could tell that saying no was not an option: She might yell at her or even hit her. "S-Sure."

"Good," Loan said flatly and turned back to the screen, "sit down."

Gwen's eyes flicked to the couch: McDonald's wrappers, more soda cans, and other, less discernible pieces of trash covered the cushions, and she grimaced. She didn't want to make Loan mad, though, so she bit the bullet, went over, and pushed some of the litter aside, making herself a spot just wide enough for her to sit with her knees pressed together. She glanced from Loan to the screen, where the guy was climbing into a Humvee while strange, alien creatures with long, spindly legs ran after. Their faces were really scary, no eyes and sharp fangs, and Gwen looked away, hoping she hadn't seen enough to spin a nightmare but knowing she had. Loan stared expressionlessly at the TV, her eyes wide and unblinking. Dark bags hung underneath, and strands of her blonde hair stuck this way and that. Gwen took a deep breath, and nearly gagged at the unwashed smell of her.

"Dad's making me do this," Loan said without turning from the game. "He told me to treat you like a member of the family so I've been completely ignoring you, but apparently that's not good enough." She paused the game and turned her head to Gwen, her lips rippling in a sneer of distaste.

"Uh...if you don't want to, that's fine," Gwen said and started to get up, "I really don't…"

"Sit down," Loan spat, and Gwen's butt slammed against the cushion. "If I don't hang out with you, Dad's taking my video games away, and when I don't have my video games, I'm kind of a bitch."

Like you aren't now?

Loan exhaled deeply through her nose, her nostrils flaring and putting Gwen in mind of an angry bull. "Don't move, don't talk - let's get this over with. Okay?"

All Gwen could do was bob her head up and down.

"Good," Loan said in a slow, patronizing tone. She turned back to the TV, unpaused the game, and started to play: The Humvee shot into a crowd of aliens, crushing some under its big tires and knocking others aside. Gwen drew a deep breath and pushed it out.

Great, now I have to hang out with Loan, who hates me, and watch her play this dumb game.

She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her face in her hands. Did I mention I hate Saturdays?

* * *

Electric piano music plays as Lemy stands to his full height and swipes the back of one gloved hand across his sweat-sheened brow. He wears an orange vest over his drab coat and holds a white plastic stick with a sharp point. A bulging black trash bag sits on the ground next to him; it's starting to rip and tear.

There's a destination a little up the road

From the habitations and the towns we know

A place we saw the lights turn low

Jigsaw jazz and the get-fresh flow

His father is ahead, shuffling along the gravel shoulder between the highway and the battered metal guardrail, his eyes scanning the ground for litter. Others are strung out on either side of them doing the same, their heads bowed and bags in their hands. A sheriff's deaupty leans against the front end of a white van with ROYAL WOODS POLICE DEPARTMENT across the sides in green, a shotgun cradled in his arms. His uniform shirt is gray, his pants black; he wears a Stetson and big mirrored sunglasses. His face is hard, weatherbeaten, like the countenance of a statue rubbed raw by centuries of wind and rain. A sunbeam glints on the giant keyring hanging from his belt.

Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts

Two turntables and a microphone

Bottles and cans and just clap your hands and just clap your hands

"This sucks," Lemy drew heavily. His arms and legs quivered with exhaustion, his back was tight, and his feet felt like they were going to fall off.

"Yeah, it does," a guy said behind him, and Lemy turned. He wore sunglasses and a vest over his leather jacket; his hair was slicked back and pube like hair covered his sharp chin. Behind him, a fat blonde with a cute face stabbed a crumpled soda can with her stick and shoved it into her bag. They knew each other somehow, and on the ride over from the courthouse, Lemy, who had the misfortune of sitting in the seat directly in front of them, heard every little fucking bit of their conversation - all the giggles and vapid fucking words...ugh. You like each other, huh? Great, fuck off and get a room, I am not the mood for this.

Pick yourself up off the side of the road

With your elevator bones and your whip-flash tones

Members only, hypnotizers

Move through the room like ambulance drivers

The man and his little girlfriend passed Lemy by, and he didn't care. This was it. He was going to die, worked to death like a Jew in a concentration camp. Here I come, Elizabeth, it's -

That thought cut off as something hard slammed into his back. With a breathless oof, he stumbled forward and whipped around, his eyes travelling up the deputy's marble body. "Keep moving," he grumbled.

Lemy wasn't a bitch, but you don't argue with a guy who has a gun in his hands and a stick up his butt. Sighing, he turned around, picked up his bag, and staggered along the shoulder.

They were on a stretch of Route 29 flanked by forest on either side. Cars whizzed by in both lanes, some of them so close the wind displaced by their passage almost knocked him over. Really? Is this shit even safe? I'm gonna get run down out here, man, what the fuck?

Shine your shoes with your microphone blues

Hirsutes with your parachute flutes

Passing the dutchie from coast to coast

Like my man Gary Wilson who rocks the most

A soda can flew from a passing Intrepid and hit the ground in front of him. "Missed one, asshole!" someone called out the window.

Grumbling, Lemy stabbed it with his stick and shoved it into the bag. Up ahead, Dad hefted his bag over his shoulder, and the bottom gave out, spilling garbage onto the ground in a heap. His shoulders slumped and his head hung in shame. The man and woman passed him like nothing.

Struggling under the weight of his own bag, Lemy went over, arriving on the scene just as Dad whipped out a new bag and started to heap the trash back in. "Need some help?" he asked.

Dad glanced over his shoulder. "No, I got it," he said, "thanks."

A purple minivan sped by and someone threw something white and ball-like out the passenger window; it hit the guardrail and exploded.

A diaper.

A shit diaper.

"Special delivery!"

"Fuck you!" Lemy called and flipped them off. "Why is this town full of dickheads?"

"I don't know," Dad said as he heaved the last of the trash pile into the bag, "but sometimes I wonder if Lisa didn't have something to do with it. She used to dump toxic waste near the river before the EPA fined her ass. Wouldn't surprise me if she got jerktonium in the water supply."

Lemy chuckled. "I see what you did there."

Dad grinned...then frowned at the diaper; shit coated the metal, random flies already buzzing over it like hungry diners circling a new restaurant. What the shit, man, it's December! There shouldn't be flies...and it shouldn't be so goddamn hot out here. "Come on," Dad said, "Deaupty Dipshit's looking at us."

Grabbing the diaper, Dad shoved it into the bag and started along the shoulder again, Lemy following close behind. Toward the end of the guardrail, leather jacket guy was standing behind the blonde with his hands on her ample hips and his crotch pressed against her butt. "Where's that spot on your neck?" he asked, and kissed the side of her throat.

She giggled and brushed her teeth across her bottom lip. "Ummm, right there."

Dad lifted his brow and glanced back. "Of course the cop's not looking at them. Let us stop for two seconds, though, and he'll be over here cracking the whip like a goddamn slavedriver."

Lemy nodded. "Just my luck."

"Pffft. Just my luck."

The blonde leaned her head against her shoulder, giving dude better access. She was panting and rubbing her butt against him now, her cheeks red. "That feels really good."

"Yeah, you like?"

"Umhm."

"Do I have to pay for it this time?"

"Keep kissing me like that and no, you don't."

Oh, God, she's a hooker. Gross

Something crashed into the back of Lemy's head and red pain filled his skull. Crying out, he fell to his knees, his palms slapping the ground. "Have a battery, bitch!" someone called from a passing car.

"Oh, my God, are you alright?" Dad asked worriedly and helped Lemy to his feet; his dome throbbed and he was this close to losing his fucking mind.

"No," he moaned and rubbed the back of his head, wincing and hissing as his fingers brushed an already forming welt, "people keep throwing shit at me." Tears filled his eyes and he blinked them back. "Everyone hates me."

Dad frowned. "Lemy," he said softly and put his hand on his shoulder, "no one hates you. You said it yourself, this town is full of assholes. Has been for as long as I can remember."

Lemy sniffed. He wasn't a bitch, but, come on, shit like this always happened to him; it was like the entire world hated his guts. You know how that feels? Not fucking good, not good at all.

At least his sisters didn't hate him. Or his aunts. Or Gwen.

He nodded to himself. Yeah, it wasn't so bad. He had a mega fuck ton of hot chicks who loved him and wanted his dick, and one incredible fucking girlfriend who was in love with him and wanted his dick, kinda hard to cry down the front of your community service vest given -

A car whipped by and a guy stuck his head out the passenger window. "Hey, fag, where's your bike?" a familiar voice yelled.

In a flash, Lemy was back in the bad old days, a virgin loser so horny it hurt and so isolated he could scream at the top of his lungs and no one would hear him. All the rage and pain and sadness returned in a flood, and he fucking popped. "Man, fuck you!" He threw up his middle finger. "Motherfucking, cocksucking piece of shit, come back here, I got your bike hanging, bitch!" The car slowed and Lemy started walking toward, his arms flailing. "That's right, motherfucker, come get your bike!" Dad snatched him by the back of his vest and dragged him away.

"Damn, calm down, Lemy."

"Nah, fuck him!" Lemy raged and tried to pull away. A middle finger shot out the window and the car sped off. "That's right, run away! Ask me where my bike is again and I swear to fuck I'll kill your punk ass!"

"Fuck you, fag!"

Hot rage boiled in Lemy's chest, and his face burned scarlet. He strained against his father's grip like a dog on a leash. "Knock it off," Dad said firmly.

"That asshole…"

"Fuck him," Dad said, and Lemy's resistance slackened. That's one word he'd never heard his old man say; in fact, he was starting to suspect that he didn't even know it. He put his hand on Lemy's shoulder and turned him around to face him. "Forget what that guy said. Forget what anyone says. You get more pussy in one weekend than he gets in a year; your aunts and your sisters think the world of you; Gwen's gaga over you; and despite the dorky headband, you're a cool guy."

Lemy smiled, then frowned. "Wait, what? Dorky headband?"

"Yes," Dad said, "your headband is dorky, but look at my shirt." Dad gripped the orange fabric of his polo between his thumb and forefinger and tugged. "It's dorky too, but I still get my dick sucked twenty times a day. I still have twenty women who'll fuck me whenever and wherever I want." Dad jabbed his shoulder with his index finger. "You do too, so relax."

Hm. Well, yeah, I guess, but still.

Dad must have seen the conflict in his eyes, because he gave his shoulder a fatherly squeeze. "In fact, you got one up one me."

"I do?"

Dad nodded, then glanced around: The guard leaned against the front of the van looking bored, and John and his hooker friend were still necking, his hands up the front of her shirt and squeezing her tits. Satisfied that no one was paying attention, he turned and leaned in as if to impart a great and terrible secret. "I've never been with a woman who wasn't my sister or daughter."

Oh, shit, really? Dad's never left the Loud gene pool and I have? A rush of accomplishment went through him and lifted him up like a cloud unto Heaven. "Now let's hurry the hell up and finish this trash shit before - "

An empty soda can whacked Dad in the face and he stumbled back. "You look thirsty!" someone called.

"Fuck you!" Lemy and Lincoln yelled in unison.

* * *

Gwen was perched on the edge of her seat, her hands clasped to her knees and her eyes wide. On the screen, Sargent-Chief ran through a long hall and fired his MegaFazer at approaching enemies. He came to a fork and hesitated.

"Go left!" Gwen said.

"I can't," Loan said, "there are too many Gorlacks in that direction."

"But you have Power Bombs."

"Yeah," Loan sniffed, "one. I don't know what I'm going to encounter in the Final Chamber, so I wanna save it."

Hm. She had a point. "What about spin-a-rooneys?"

Loan shook her head. "I used my last one on those Kivaks back there."

That was not good; she was almost to the Final Chamber and the fate of six galaxies depended on her defeating The Big Giant Head. If she failed here, billions and billions of innocent lives would be lost and life as we know it would cease to exist.

Something occurred to her, and she turned to Loan. "You still have plenty of Diamond Cutters, right?"

Loan heaved a long suffering sigh "Those are Level 3 Diamond Cutters, these Gorlacks are Level 5."

"Yeah, but you activated the Power Reducer in Terminal 12, so they're really only Level 3 and a half."

Loan stared at the screen, her face without expression. "You're right, I did." On TV, Sargent-Chief ducked left and started down the hall. The overhead lights, bright white before, dimmed to red, and shadows filled the corridor. Loan pressed a button and a flashlight beam shot from under the Fazer barrel. In the darkness, something hissed, and Sargent-Chief threw a Diamond Cutter toward the sound; a high, shrieking cry of pain replied.

Something touched Gwen's shoulder and she jumped a foot. "Hey," Lemy said softly, "w-what's going on?"

"Saving the universe," she blurted over her shoulder.

Lemy blinked and looked at the screen. "Uhhh, okay, do you wanna -?"

Gwen turned back to the TV. "Yeah," she said and absently waved her hand, "later."

"Are you -?"

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Loan roared, and it was his turn to jump.

Okay, fuck this; he went into the dining room and then the kitchen, tossing worried glances over his shoulder; Loan and Gwen? Hanging out? Of all the wild shit I've seen in this house, that tops the fucking list.

Oh, God, I hope Gwen doesn't turn into Loan. An image flicked tauntingly through his mind: Gwen and Loan sitting side-by-side on the couch, both in baggy sweatpants and hoodies, heaps of garbage around them; both dirty, both unwashed, both total a-holes. A lump of ice formed in his throat and dropped into his stomach. Aw, man, I sure fucking hope -

"Hey, Lemy."

Lemy realized he was standing in the kitchen threshold and staring into space like a weirdo. He jerked his gaze to the right: Luan sat at the table, a bowl of soup or some damn thing before her. She wore a summery white blouse and her rusty brown hair in a jaunty ponytail; from the light dancing in her dark eyes and the little smirk playing at the corner of her lips, Lemy deduced that she was either horny...or waiting for him to blunder into one of her pranks.

Probably the latter; this bitch was always up to something. Usually Dad was the butt of her jokes, but lately she started targeting him too. The other day Mom asked him to take the trash out. Okay, no big, but when he pulled the bag out, the bottom came undone and garbage flooded the floor. Check it: This asshole cut the bottom of the bag, stuck a plastic clip on, then threaded fishing line through and tied it to the handle so that when it was pulled, the clip came off. I don't mean to talk trash, she said, her hands pressed to her sides, but that was a prank I couldn't refuse!

Ugh, God. He'd take her pranks if only she'd drop the fucking puns; they're the lowest form of humor, you know. You'd think that a thirty-five-year-old woman who's been doing comedy since she was, like, eight would have realized that by now, but no, not Luan, she still thought they were hilarious.

"Hey," he said and crossed to the fridge real cautious-like; her eyes trailed him and made him so nervous that by the time he reached the door and opened it, he winced in dread expectation.

Nothing.

Whew.

He grabbed a can of soda, investigated it for signs of tampering, and sniffed the top just in case she rubbed hot sauce or something on it, I don't fucking know.

Clean.

Holding it away from his face, he popped the tab, but nothing shot out. Huh. Guess she's not planning my [wacky] demise.

He leaned against the counter and took a long drink, his eyes never leaving Luan - he was like a kicked dog and she the cruel kickerer. Her gaze traveled slowly up his body, and her eyes met his. "How was community service?"

Lemy shrugged. "Shit."

She hummed. "I figured it would be trash."

Ha. Ha. Ha.

"A real waste of your day."

She was grinning widely now; she propped her elbow on the table and slipped her fingers into her hair, her head cocking flirtatiously. In his sleep, The Shockmaster moved. "Why don't you sit down?" she asked and darted her eyes to the chair catty-corner from her. "You look litter-ally exhausted." She laughed and Lemy rolled his eyes. His brain told him to dip, but his dick told him to stick around. Guess which one he listened to.

Sitting the can on the table, he dropped into the chair and draped one arm over the back in a posture meant to achieve maximum cool. "You're a funny girl, you know that?" Even he couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or kissing her ass.

She leaned over the table, crossed her legs, and cupped her cheek in her palm. "What can I say? I love cumedy."

Lemy blinked. That was hot...but still her worst one yet. Let's see, brah, I gotta start throwing puns back, you know? Meet a girl on her level. The thing is: I'm a 'tard when it comes to puns (which must mean I have a normally functioning brain). She's staring at me with big, hazy eyes and I got nothing. Cue The Heat is On by Glenn Frey. Sweating bullets, man.

He said the first thing that came to mind. "That must makes you a good headliner."

Luan's eyes sparkled. "I'm a very good headliner."

"Your act doesn't suck?"

The corners of her lips turned up. "Oh, it sucks alright. It blows too. In fact, every time I do it I go down."

Shit, brah, what do I say next? I can't drop the ball.

"The audience still cums back for more, though."

She nodded. "They keep giving me a shot."

"They must have loads of fun."

"My routine's always a bust, but they would nut dream of missing it."

Goddamn it, coming up with these things is a nightmare. Luckily, though, that little bit of foreplay got Luan primed and ready to go; slipping out of her chair, she knelt before him, her hands on her knees and the hem of her skirt touching the floor.

"Would you like to see my act?" she asked and half-lidded her eyes. "You'll have a blast."

Shocky was fully awake now, towering over his nuts and pushing out the seam of his jeans like that cyclops in the Odyssey. Nobody has blinded me, bro!

Fumbling at his belt with trembling fingers, he undid it, pulled the tab of his zipper down, and reached in. Luan watched with glinting eyes as he brought it out, her brows liting when she saw it. "Hm," she said, "that's a pretty big club." She scooted closer and put her hands on his knees, her back arching and her face turning up. "I can work it, though."

Lemy ran his fingers through her hair and wracked his brain for something to say, but she flicked his head with her tongue and all rational thought scattered like light through a prism. Shocky twitched, and Luan responded by leaning forward and touching the tip of her tongue to his base and stroking slowly along his shaft, her eyes never leaving his and her smile sharpening into a predatory leer that he couldn't help but find sexy af.

She reached his apex and wrapped her lips around his aching head. He threaded his fingers through her hair and gasped when she jerked down, the wet heat of her mouth slathering his length and sending lightning bolts of trembling sensation into the center of his stomach.

Bottoming out, she moved back up to almost his tip, then pushed down again. Lemy's hands fell from her hair and landed on the backs of hers, his fingers instinctively rubbing soft circles in her silky skin. She grazed her nails along his knees, her tongue lapping his crowned head as she pulled back. "You taste really good," she panted, her lips vibrating against him, her hot breath making it twitch. She kissed it, then took it in her mouth once more, bobbing down and then back up, down and then back up. Lemy threw his head back and squeezed his eyes closed; hot steam was building up deep in his loins, and if he didn't think about Grandma, he was going to shoot his load down Luan's throat before he'd even gotten a chance to…

And like that it was over: She spit him out and used his knees to push herself up, her face hovering inches from his. her eyes and smile both wide and lecherous. A strand of sunlight caught her lips and made them shimmer wetly. "I really like stand-up," she whispered huskily and pressed her nose to his, the smell of her breath filling his nostrils and tantalizing his brain, "but I like sit down even better." She nodded slowly.

"Yeah?" Lemy asked, "lucky for you my dick's a gentleman: It always stands up so ladies have a place to sit."

She lifted her brows and bit her bottom lip, a heavy exhalation leaving her nose. "May I?"

Lemy nodded.

Turning, she slipped her hands up her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees; they were white with smiley faces, Lemy noticed. Holding the hem up around her hips, she settled against his tip and slapped her hands on to the edge of the table, her head bowing. Damp heat pooled in his lap, and he let out a shivery hitch, sounding to his own ears like Lorraine from MADTV. His hands went to her hips as she sank down and sheathed him. "Oh, God," she sighed and tossed her head back in a fragrant swish; her ponytail slapped him across the face and her walls gripped him furiously. She pushed her hips up, then brought them down, doing that wiggle thing that Lola had apparently taught each and every one of her sisters; it was almost enough to rip your load outta your dick whether you wanted to cum or not. He gasped, dug his nails into her flesh, and pressed his forehead against her back. She moved up, then down, slowly at first but gaining speed. "When you're almost there, tell me," she said breathlessly.

"Why?"

"You'll see," she said, "trust me. Your dad loves it."

Uh..okay. As far as Lemy knew, his father wasn't into anything too weird,.

Luan was going faster now, their bodies hitting together with a meaty, rhythmic slap. He moved his hand up her stomach and fumbled at the buttons of her blouse, being careful not to pop any. Undoing buttons from behind with one hand while a woman bounces on your lap isn't the easiest thing in the world, and he pawed impotently for a minute. "Just rip it," she said.

Shrugging, he grabbed her blouse and yanked, the fabric tearing - kinda like cracking open a carb shell to get to the soft, tender meat within. He slipped his hand in and found her breast: It was soft and warm and just big enough to overfill his hand. He squeezed it, and she yelped. "Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yes...like that, Lemy, just like that...just like that."

Neither one was aware of Lori entering the kitchen, a briefcase in one hand and her phone in the other. She was still dressed in her work clothes: A smart skirt that reached her knees and a gray blazer over a white blouse. She looked up...and rolled her eyes. "Do you really have to do that in the kitchen?"

Lemy gritted his teeth against the rising tide of his climax: Thinking about Grandma wasn't gonna help this time. "I-I'm close," he said.

"Me too," Luan said…

...then clenched her walls painfully around him. He let out a sharp cry, and his load exploded from him with such force that his eyes rolled back into his head. Luan hissed through her teeth as his heat shot into her, and brought her butt flush with his groin just as her own orgasm burst. Lemy squeezed her tight as they both shook in the throes of their mutual end, his body pumping out ribbons of cum and her body drawing it greedily in.

Lori shook her head and turned away. "Whatever."

Humming, Luan leaned back against him. "I love a good creampie." She said sleepily. "In fact, you could say -"

Lemy tweaked her nipple.

"Ow!"

"No puns right now," he said, "just...enjoy the moment."

She looked at him over her shoulder and grinned. "You are just like your Dad."

Oh? You know...he wouldn't have six months ago, but now...he took that as a compliment. His Dad was a cool guy.

In the living room, Gwen nervously bit her nails as Loan did battle with The Big Giant Head, a literal floating, ghostly head that looked like a rotting zombie from one of those dumb old movies. "Use the Power Bomb," she said.

"Not yet," Loan said.

Thin, rope-like tentacles shot out of The Big Giant Head's face and Gwen gasped. "Now!"

"No," Loan said dispassionately, "not yet."

The tencticles seized Saeant-Cheif and yanked him off his feet, drawing him inexorably toward the BGH's gaping maw - to its razor sharp, slime slathered fangs. He was so close now the creature's breath fogged the face shield of his helmet. "NOW!"

Loan jammed her finger against a button, and a large yellow ball shot impossibly out of Sargent-Chief's chest. It sailed into the BGH's mouth and down its throat. Its eyes widened, and the tentacles released, dropping Sargent-Chief to the floor.

"RUN!" Gwen cried.

Chest rising and falling, Loan tapped the X button, and Sargent-Chief got slowly to his feet. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" she urged.

Shaking his head, Sargent-Chief started to run, reaching the passage back to the place he was before just as a giant explosion filled the chamber behind him.

MISSION PASSED appeared onscreen. YOU HAVE KILL FUCKING ALIEN SCUM YOU'RE WINNER.

"YEAH!" Loan screamed and jumped to her feet. She spiked the controller against the coffee table. "Who's your mama, bitch?"

Gwen held up her hand for a high-five, and Loan slapped it so hard the little girl nearly fell. "Did you see that? I made that motherfucker my woman!"

"You put it in his butt and made him call you mommy," Gwen said.

"Damn right I did," Loan agreed, "he won't walk right for a week." She snatched a bottle of Mountain Dew off the table, twisted the cap, and chugged it, then tossed the empty over her shoulder and sat. Reaching for the controller, she said, "Now to do it again...this time on hard"

Gwen's brow furrowed. "Wait, that wasn't hard?"

"Nope," Loan said, "that was easy."

"Oh, God, what does hard look like?"

"We're about to find out," Loan said and restarted the game.

Gwen sat down and folded her hands on her lap. I have to see this: Easy mode was so difficult that Loan could barely make it through without dying, hard would be impossible.

As they waited for the game to load, Loan turned her head to Gwen, her lips pursed and her brow crinkled in something approaching confusion. "You know...you're not as bad as I thought you were."

That made Gwen smile real big. "Thanks."

Loan nodded curtly. "You're alright."

The loading screen finished and Master-Chief appeared.

"Can I play this time?"

Loan's face fell. "Don't push it."

"Sorry," Gwen said and smiled sheepishly.


	6. A Day of Work

**Lyrics to Work It by Missy Elliot (2002)**

Lemy rolled out of bed and started for the bathroom before he was even awake, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging across the floor like two blocks of wood. He was at the door when he realized he was even a thing, you know? His next realization was that he felt too much of a breeze for it to be natural. Blinking his sleep crusted eyes, he glanced down, and The Shockmaster greeted him with a nod and a yo.

Oh. I'm naked. Heh. Still not used to sleeping 'in the buff' as the kids say. Before Gwen, I slept in my man panties and liked it, but ever since she slid into my DMs (I mean bed), I been freeballing, ya know? Easier access, for one, and for two Gwen likes seeing my junk in the morning; it wakes her up like a hot cup of coffee. Sometimes I get outta bed and poke her in the face with it. Eyyo, time to wake up, nigga.

Lol, I sound like Dino now. Speaking of Dino, man, fuck that guy, it's his fault I have to pick shit up off the side of the road and get batteries thrown at the back of my head. Can you believe I have to waste my Saturdays over that bullshit?

At least I have Sundays.

Throwing on a pair of boxers, he went into the hall...and froze.

Ladders, orange Home Depot buckets, toolboxes, tubs of plaster, and other Bob the Builder type shit littered the hall. His heart sank. Oh shit.

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Lana came out wiping her hands on a green microfiber cloth. She wore jeans and a white T-shirt with Jimmy Buffet or some shit on it, her red cap backwards and a little tuft of blonde hair sticking through the slot. Lemy's eyes went first to her ample breasts, then to her wide hips, then, lastly but not leastly, to her face, so much like Lola's but so much not. Strangest shit ever. She spotted him and donned a sly little grin; his dick twitched like Scrappy Doo tryna go after someone bigger and tougher than him, and his chest clutched. It's like a tornado, ya know? Hot on bottom, cold on top, two different emotions...horny because she was hot in a Handyman Jane sort of way...and not because...you hear that? That's the sound of my Sunday crashing down like that airplane with Mr. Play-It-Safe onboard.

"Hey, Al," she called, "ready to work?"

A ton of bricks suddenly weighed his shoulders down, and they slumped. No, I am most certainly not ready to work; I spent all yesterday picking up trash, and last night I was up 'til 2am having sex with Gwen. Playing Handy Manny is the last thing I wanna do right.

I know. I'll lie. "S-Sorry," he said, "I, uh, I can't. I'm...sick."

Lana picked a toolbelt off the floor and strapped it around her waist; the handle of a hammer protruded from a metal loop like a cop's nightstick (move it along, sir). "Sick?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"AIDS," he blurted, and winced.

For a moment she stared at him...then laughed in that hitching, hiccuping way of hers. "You're funny. Get dressed, grab your tool pouch, and meet me upstairs. We're gonna get 'er done."

"But -"

She grabbed one of the tubs and went up the stairs to the third floor, completely ignoring his protest.

Goddamn it! I don't wanna play This Old House! I wanna play sit on my ass and relax. Sundays are a day of rest, Lana, the Lord spaketh it and here you are asking me to work? I know I'm a sinner, but, c'mon, I gotta draw the line somewhere. Premarital sex, incest, smoking drugs, that candy I stole from Flip's once...that's kid stuff compared to pissing in God's face and working on the Sabbath. Are you trying to get struck down, girl? 'Cuz I'm not.

Sighing deeply, he went to the bathroom and took his morning piss, wracking his brain for a way to get out of work. Maybe he was dumb and unimaginative, but all he could think of was intentionally hurting himself. Whoops, cut my hand off; can I go watch TV now? Maybe he could rope Dad into helping him out. Hey, Lan, me and Lemy did to go do important stuff today...like hanging out in separate rooms.

Done, he shook it twice (shake it three times and you're playing with yourself), then flushed and dragged himself down the hall like a dead man walking on the green mile, head bowed, dick shriveled, feet shuffling with a shoeshine...goddamn it! This is bullshit.

In his room, he dressed in an old pair of jeans with paint splatter and a black T-shirt, his movements quick and sharp in passive-aggressive frustration. He looked like a little boy throwing a tantrum while acquiescing to his mother's orders to put on the godawful bunny suit his aunt gave him for Christmas (what, no official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle?), but he didn't give a shit. He had every right to throw a bitch fit when his Sunday was being raped and taken from him; anyone would do the same.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled his shoes on then went over to the closet, opened it, and sighed at the pile of junk on the floor. Gwen was a helluva woman, always cleaning up and stuff even though he told her not to, but even she wouldn't touch the nightmare that was his closet. Old clothes, old toys, and a million other things were heaped in and reached unto heaven like the Tower of fucking Babble.

And the tool pouch Lana got him last Christmas was at the very bottom.

Damn it.

Sighing, he dropped to his knees and went on an epic archaeological dig, finding ancient relics of bygone eras: Oh, shit, what up, G.I. Joe? Damn, Bionicals, it's been awhile! So that's where my Aerosmith shirt went. Huh.

Finally he found the pouch and yanked it out with a grunt. There, Lana, I have my pouch, happy now? He got to his feet, buckled it around his waist, and went over to the bed, where Gwen was curled up on her side asleep, her face slack and her eyes closed. His heart melted into his stomach and a shit eating grin touched his lips. That's mine, brah. I'm lucky, huh? Even if people do throw batteries at the back of my head and ask me where my bike is all the time.

He knelt, brushed her bangs out of her face, and kissed her forehead. She stirred and muttered, her eyes opening to tired slits. "Hey," she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," he said, "Lana roped me into helping her, so I won't be around much."

"Oh. Okay."

He kissed her forehead again. "Love you."

She closed her eyes and smiled. "I love you too."

For a moment he lingered, not wanting to leave her, then got to his feet. Alright, let's get this shit done.

He found Lana in the third floor hall, kneeling next to an orange bucket and rummaging through it, muttering to herself as she did. Lemy leaned one shoulder against the wall and stared at said bucket. There was a picture of some dumbass with a Home Depot cap on the side; he held a bucket just like the one he was emblazoned on (same label and everything...meta) and pointed at it proudly. This is mah bucket, hur hur hur. HOMER'S ALL PURPOSE BUCKET screamed orange writing next to his head. All purpose, huh? I doubt that, there's only so much you can put in a bucket, dude.

Lana found what she was looking for and her face brightened. "Ha, there you are." Lemy craned his neck to see what it was: A purple square of...paper? She got to her feet and turned, recoiling a little in surprise. "Hey, Al," she said happily, her eyes going to his toolbelt. She grinned and socked him in the shoulder, driving him back a couple steps. Ow, shit; girl hit like a fucking dump truck. "That looks good on you."

"Thanks," he said and rubbed his shoulder, "uh...what are we doing?"

Lana glanced over her shoulder. "Well, first, we gotta sand these walls, then we're gonna paint."

Lemy hung his head. He hated sanding. And painting. "How long will we be up here?" he asked.

Lana shrugged. "I figure all day."

Damn it.

"I brought extra lamps so we can keep on trucking after dark."

Lovely.

"Hell, if we work through the night, we can probably be totally done by morning."

He started to reach for a screwdriver, ya know, to shove into his ear and kill himself, but something occurred to him, and he grinned. "Sorry, I got school tomorrow."

Now it was Lana's turn to hang her head. "Damn. Okay. We'll work 'til midnight and call it a day then."

Lemy's grin dropped.

* * *

So...day two of not having Lemy around until way late. That's good...nothing wrong with spending time apart. The God squad makes a big deal about married couples (and she and Lemy were practically married) being one flesh and soul and blah blah blah, but, realistically, no, two people are not one, they each need space. Say...Frank and Martha. They're married, they love each other, they wouldn't trade one another for the world...still, Frank goes bowling on Thursday nights and Martha plays bridge with the girls on Saturdays. That's good...that's healthy...that's normal.

Even so...darn it, she missed him. I know, I know, we sleep in the same bed and see each other constantly, but I still kind of feel like we've been apart a lot.

And that isn't healthy. He was only gone for a couple hours yesterday. It's not like she went days and days without him. Sheesh. Lana taking him was probably for the best; she needed to be away from him or else she'd cave and get even clingier, and no one likes a clingy girl.

She should probably talk to him about it, point out that they should do their own things sometimes. She didn't look forward to possibly hurting his feelings and making him think she didn't love him or was getting sick of him or something, but she couldn't just pull away without an explanation because that would hurt him too. Lori told her that communication is key in a relationship; you have to be clear and direct with your partner so that there's no ambiguity.

Later, she thought, when they were in bed, she'd bring it up and see how he felt; hopefully he didn't take it wrong. She was really worried now that he would.

Hm.

They weren't that bad, were they? Sure, she was thinking about stalking him yesterday, but she realized how creepy that was and stopped herself. A real crazy-clingy girlfriend wouldn't have done that; she'd have run him down, dragged him home, and chained him up in the basement. She could just let it go; there really wasn't a problem.

Then again, the person with the problem never knows they have a problem, so maybe there was?

I don't know! I'm an eleven-year-old girl with her first boyfriend, don't expect me to be a psychology expert or something.

Tell you what: Lemy and I will talk. Just talk. From there we'll see how it goes.

Right.

Dressed for the day in a skirt and blouse, she went downstairs, her mind starting to work. What should she do? See Marsha? Go on a walk? Oooh, maybe she could ask Leia to ask Lola or Leni if they could go to the mall (she didn't feel right asking for something like that herself). The mall was lots of fun - it had everything you could ever want all in one place.

Her mind went back to the day she, Leia, and Lemy hung out at the mall with Lyra and Liena, and a dreamy sigh burst from her throat.

Okay, focus, Gwen; no thinking of Lemy right now. Think of something else. Like food. I'm starving.

In the kitchen, she grabbed a bowl and a box of cereal, then took them, plus milk and a spoon, into the dining room. Leia and Lizy were sitting side-by-side, Leia's head bowed over a sheaf of papers. Lizy looked up when Gwen sat across from them, and her brow furrowed ever so slightly in an oh-it's-you expression that made Gwen frown.

"Hey," Gwen said, and Leia glanced up. "What'cha doing?"

"Making flyers," Leia said, "I'm selling hot chocolate today."

Gwen's frown deepened. "Today? Isn't it, like, a little late for that? You have to put flyers up at least -"

"I know," Leia put it, "it was a supr-of-the-moment decision." Lizy rolled her eyes and shook her head in annoyance.

Pouring cereal into her bowl, Gwen shrugged. "Well...do you need help?"

Leia opened her mouth, then cocked her head to one side. "Actually, I might." She looked at her sister. "You certainly can't do it."

Uh-oh. Do what?

Suddenly, Gwen had the sneaking suspicion that she should have kept her mouth shut. Looks like Lemy's not the only one who's gonna have to work today.

Oh well. At least it'd keep her mind off him.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" she asked and took a bite of her cereal.

Across the table, Leia grinned. "You'll see." She shoved a stack of paper in front of Lizy and slapped a pink marker on top. "Here. Since you can't do that, you can do this."

The little girl shrugged, picked up the marker, and started to write. As she ate, Gwen snaked glances at her and tried to decide if she should talk to her or not; obviously Lizy was jealous of her and Lemy and letting that fester wouldn't be good for any of them. She was more than willing to share Lemy with her the way she did with everyone else; the thing was, none of them had legitimate feelings for him (beyond loving him as a brother or nephew). Lizy, on the other hand, did, or so she suspected. She followed him around like a lost puppy, and whenever he picked her up and spun her around or gave her a piggyback ride, her face glowed; it was the cutest thing ever.

It was also a problem, because if she did feel that way, she might not want to share, she might want Lemy all to herself. And that's assuming Lemy was willing to...you know...be with her, which so far he didn't seem to be. She's my little sister, he told her once as they lay in bed, I just can't...get past that, you know?

She pointed out that Leia was his little sister too. That's different, he said, I wasn't as close to her as Lizy. I changed Lizy's diapers and held her when she was a baby. Dad might be able to block that out when he's doing one of the girls, but I don't think I can.

That was fair; she honestly didn't know how Mr. Loud did it. She wasn't down on him, or it - he wasn't a child molester or anything, the girls wanted it - but still...having sex with your own kids? Wow.

Presently, Leia got up and gathered a stack of flyers in her arms. Lizy did likewise. "Alright, Gwen, let's go," Leia said.

Oh. I was expecting to eat my breakfast first. "Well, let me -"

"Time is money, Gwen," Leia said and went into the living room.

Gwen sighed and looked down at her bowl. At least I got to eat half of it…

* * *

Is it worth it? Let me work it

I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it

Lana took one side of the hall and Lemy took the other, standing on a wobbly ladder that groaned under his weight and shook with every beat of his heart. He held the sandpaper against the surface and scrubbed back and forth, his arms beginning to ache within minutes and his back protesting vehemently.

On the bright side, Lana plugged a radio in, so at least they had music.

Is it worth it? Let me work it

I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it

Ti esrever dna ti pilf, nwod gniht ym tup

Ti esrever dna ti pilf, nwod gniht ym tup

Gag. Me. With. A. Spoon. That's eighties slang for oh, man, that's fucking gross. Lana liked it, though; she shook her butt and rolled her hips and neck from side to side as she wiped the wall. Occasionally she sang along...but only on the dirty parts.

If you got a big [random ass elephant noise] let me search ya

And find out how hard I gotta work ya

Ti esrever dna ti pilf, nwod gniht ym tup

Ti esrever dna ti pilf, nwod gniht ym tup

What the fuck was she saying at the end? Sounded like Latin. Was she trying to summon demons or something?

Every couple minutes he had to get down and move the ladder, then sand the bottom half of the wall before moving on. He tried his best at first, but after five minutes he gave up and started half-assing it.

I'd like to get to know ya so I could show ya

Put the pussy on ya like I told ya

Give me all your numbers so I can phone ya

Your girl acting stank, then call me over

Not on the bed, lay me on your sofa

At one point, Lola came out of her room and passed by, her eyes darting to Lemy and a sly smile touching her face...a sly smile that fell when Lana intentionally got in her way and started to twerk or somethin, her hands on her knees and her rump bouncing from side-to-side. "Ew, gross, Lana!" Lola cried, "get your butt out of my face!"

Lana threw a playful glance over her shoulder and sang along. "Call before you come, I need to shave my chocha/You do or you don't or you will or won't ya?/Go downtown and eat it like a vulture."

Flashing, Lola drew back her foot and kicked Lana square in the ass; her feet left the ground and she fell forward, knocking her ladder over. It fell against the wall, the edge cracking it. Lola humphed and passed by, going down the stairs.

Lana got to her feet and looked at the fissure. "Great, now we have to patch and mud it. Then sand it." She sighed in frustration. "There's no way in hell we're getting done today."

Good. Maybe she'll let me go.

Nope.

She brought her ladder over to his side of the wall. "We'll just blast this half out then do what we can over there."

See my hips and my tips, don't ya?

See my ass and my lips, don't ya?

Lost a few pounds in my waist for ya

This the kinda beat that go ra-ta-ta

Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta

Lana ducked her shoulders and wiggled her butt, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Lemy was embarrassed by one of his aunts.

Sex me so good I say blah-blah-blah

Work it, I need a glass of water

Boy, oh boy, it's good to know ya

The wall was finally done. Great, now I can take a br -

Lana shoved a stack of plastic outlet covers and a screwdriver into his hand. "You know what to do, Al," she said with a grin. There was an inflection in her voice that suggested to him she wasn't just talking about outlet covers.

Love the way my ass go bum-bum-bum-bum

Keep your eyes on my bum-bum-bum-bum-bum

You think you can handle this badonkadonk-donk

Take my thong off and my ass go boom

Cut the lights on so you see what I could do

He knelt in front of one of the receptacles, placed the cover over, and screwed it in. He got up, moved to the next one, and did the same. Lana watched him the whole time, her arms crossed and a lustful smile on her face. Well, looks like - holy shit, I have a brilliant idea!

Wanna see him get out of having to do this dumb shit?

Hurriedly unscrewing the cover, he tilted it to one side so that it was crooked and replaced the screw. He drew back, forced a frown, and looked up at his aunt. "Lana, can you come here?"

Uncrossing her arms, she walked over and crouched behind him. "What's up?"

Imma show you. Out loud, instead: "I think I did this wrong."

"Yeah, it looks wrong to me," she said.

"Can you show me the right way?"

"Sure."

She inched forward until her breasts smooshed against his back, then reached around and slid her hand down his arm, her breath catching slightly. Got'cha! Pressing her cheek to his, she took his hand and held it like she was teaching him to golf or something. He turned his head, and she turned hers; their lips grazed, and seizing the opportunity, Lemy kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She stiffened...then kissed him back. He put his hand on her cheek then danced his fingertips down the side of her throat. Chicks get really turned on when you do that - so turned on that they forget all about their home improvement projects.

Just like Lana did: She took his face in both hands and threw her body into his, knocking him back against the floor and mounting him. He slipped one hand into her hair and held the other up, thumb extended as if to an imaginary audience. That's right, y'all.

She pulled back and looked down at him with lovedrunk eyes. "My room," she said, "now."

In the words of that dude from Dazed and Confused: Alright, alright, alright.

Getting to her feet, she snatched him up by the front of his shirt and dragged him roughly to his feet. His eyes widened and he let out a wavering, "Whoa!" Lana giggled and pulled him into her bedroom like a spider dragging a fly into its web, then flung him onto the bed. Remember Friday where Deebo hits that dude so hard he leaves his feet, flies through the air, then crashes down on his back? Yeah, that's pretty much what happened to Lemy: His life flashed before his eyes, and when he hit the bed, the air left his lungs in a rush.

Before he could recover, Lana pounced, leaping on him like a hungry tigress and mawing him with her hands and lips, her tongue jamming into his mouth and her fingers worrying at his belt. Goddamn, she is ready! He kissed her back and held his arms out at his side, allowing her to do whatever she saw fit; she yanked his pants and underwear down and wrapped her fingers around his length. I guess we're not doing foreplay.

Pulling back from his lips, she popped her shirt off and threw it away, her generous breasts falling free. "You ever fuck a woman doggystyle?" she asked as she lifted up and pulled down her pants.

Uh...he had to think about that. He thought he had, but, honestly, he'd had so much sex over the past couple months that he couldn't be sure. "No," he said.

"You're about to," she panted. Naked now, she spun and bent, her hands and knees planting into the bed; her butt cheeks spread apart to reveal her soft, pink, glistening center. Her heat and smell were both so strong they nearly bowled him over. She was hot as fuck, bro, and her scent was wild, musky, with, like, a primal edge that made his pee-pee stand up and take notice. She cocked a sexy look over her shoulder and grinned widely. "You ready, Al?"

Lemy got onto his knees and pulled his shirt off. "Damn right I am," he said, "always ready for a little demo work."

She snorted in a conceited way that reminded him so much of Lola his head spun. "You better swing that hammer hard if you wanna tear down my walls; I'm not those little fairy princesses you been fucking with."

A response came instantly and he went with it. "I'll tear 'em down alright...then paint 'em white."

Her brows lifted. "Oh, you're cocky." Her eyes went to his throbbing dick and her smile sharpened. "And you got a big dick."

Lemy's lips turned up in an involuntary smirk; having girls compliment his dick never got old, and probably never would. He wasn't an egotist or anything, he didn't need to hear it, but it was nice, ya know?

He started to take his toolbelt off, but Lana shook her head. "Don't take it off." She grinned. "It turns me on."

Okay, a little strange, but, hey, we all have our kinks. Letting go of the buckle, he walked forward on his knees and grabbed her fleshy hips; her breath caught and she let loose a long, low mmmm when he prodded her moist opening with his head. Her sickly dank heat caressed him like a..I dunno, hand or something, and when he pressed himself against her, burning hot handywoman juice seared his tip and made him wince. She hummed again and fisted the blanket in both hands, her butt wiggling back and forth and scraping across his dick. "Go on, Al...if you think ya got the right tools for the job."

By way of reply, Lemy drew back and thrusted forward as hard as he could, his dick shooting deep into her blazing center and pushing her walls roughly apart. She jumped forward a little and uttered a sharp, satisfying yelp. He shifted on his knees and pushed deeper, her ass coming totally flush with his crotch and his dick reaching so far he could practically feel her teeth. Her muscles clenched around him and stroked his shaft as he pulled slowly back. He swiveled his hips and his dick swirled like it was a spoon and her insides were a yogurt container; gotta scrap all the excess off, ya know? She shook so violently she nearly lost her balance. "Gaaaaahhhhhhdaaaaammmmmnnn," she trembled. Whoa. She liked it. Ironically, I learned that from your twin. Or is that irony?

Shrugging it off, he drilled forward again, and Lana pushed back against him, her walls spasming against him and her dripping honey spilling down his balls in burning rivulets. She threw her head back and moaned in contentment as she met each one of his strokes. She glanced over her shoulder and watched him with big, shimmery eyes, her lower lip clamped between her teeth and her cheeks burning the most beautiful and surprising shade of pink he had ever seen; it made her look stunning...and girly, which is not how he was used to seeing her. She was Mrs. Fix-It or something, always working with her hands and being...I dunno, tomboyish. In this moment now, though, she was all women, and every bitch instinct in Lemy's body told him to treat her gentle and slow.

Instead he pounded her like a cheap hooker, his balls slapping her clit and making her eyes narrow. "When you're almost done, punch me in the side as hard as you can," she breathed.

Lemy missed a beat. "What?"

Still biting her lip, she nodded. "You'll like it."

Alright. I don't get off on hitting women and stuff, but if she wants me to, I will.

Holding tighter to her hips, he drilled into her like a fucking jackhammer, his hips flying back and forth so fast the motion would have created sparks if she wasn't so warmly, blissfully, ambrosially wet. She threw herself back into his thrusts, her breasts bouncing, her head nodding, and her fingers twisting the blanket. Maybe it was an ego thing, but he wanted to her to be so fucking swept away in rapture that she could only lay there, so he went faster, his balls slapping her so hard it hurt and his groin hitting her ass with a wet, meaty thwack. She hung her head and moaned loudly, but didn't go limp in ecstasy. He gritted his teeth and went faster still; sweat poured down his face and back, a bead trickling into the crack of his ass. He was starting to feel his end approaching, and he thought of Grandma; it went away, but it didn't go far.

"Yes, yes, yes," she rhythmically chanted, the wavering I'm-close-to-cumming-for-you-Lemy quality of her voice pushing him toward the edge. He thought of Grandma once more, but the time for that had passed. He was coming down the mount whether he liked it or not. Look out below.

Remembering her request, he balled his fist and threw it out...then, just before his load shot from his depths, he smashed it down into her side with all his might. Lana cried out in pain...and her walls closed on him like a vise; he sucked a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, and the most powerful orgasm of his young life was ripped from his squeez'd dick. Wet heat flooded Lana's pulsing passage and crashed into her womb in a molten tidal wave of incestous pedophila. She shook with her own climax and her knees gave out; she fell to her stomach and Lemy's dick popped out, still spraying like a firehose gone mad, white jizz splashing across her pale, trembling ass and pooling in the dimples at the base of her spine. He grabbed hold and held it steady just as the final round burst forth; it arched through the air and went splat between her shoulder blades. A shudder ran through her, and then she went limp, her back rising and falling as she heaved for breath.

Lemy didn't move for a minute - wasn't even sure he could move - then he climbed over Lana's leg and flopped down on his back next to her. She turned her head and regarded him with one twinkling eye half-veiled through her blonde bangs. She pushed herself up on her elbows and grinned at him.

"How are those walls feeling?" he panted.

She nodded slowly. "Mostly intact."

"Goddamn it," he sighed.

She laughed and slapped his chest. "Hey, I said mostly."

Lemy shrugged one shoulder. That's something, I guess. "You got off, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I got off. I wouldn't fake it. I don't with your dad."

Lemy turned his head to her. "Does Dad not get you off sometimes?"

"Sometimes," she said, "everyone has off days. And if he doesn't get me there, I make him eat my asshole." She chuckled. "That always makes he cum."

"That's one thing I've never done," he said, his voice hitching with uncertainty because he wasn't actually sure if he had or not. Eating ass is something you don't forget, so he must not have...not that he was against it. In fact, the thought of Gwen on her stomach with her legs spread and the hem of her skirt hiked up around her hips, her butt cheeks spread and her back arched down...um, yes, he'd tuck a fucking napkin in his shirt and eat that thang 'til the cows came home.

Lana rubbed a large, lazy circle on his chest. "Wanna try it?"

He glanced at her, and the cute way her sweaty bangs hung in her alluring eyes made his mind up for him. "Sure."

She brightened and got her knees under her, butt thrusting into the air and cheek pressing against the mattress, reminding him of a playfully puppy ready to pounce. He got up and slipped behind her; his cum oozed from her pussy and leaked down the insides of her thighs, and for some reason, that made Shocky shoot up like a black preacher at a tent revival. He darted his eyes to her pink, puckered butthole and scrunched his lips to the side. It looks clean, but it's still an ass, brah.

He hesitated, then said fuck it, leaned it, and pressed his tongue to it; the taste of salty skin and musky woman filled his mouth. Huh. Not much different than pussy. A little more..coppery? Ew. He licked it slowly, the tip of his tongue dipping in and his eyes rolling up in consideration. It wasn't bad. It was...actually, it was kind of nice. He grabbed her butt cheeks, spread them apart, and stroked his tongue slowly over her hole, swirling it here and there for variety. Lana's breathing became heavy and she moved her hips back and forth, rubbing herself against his face and sighing.

His dick was so hard it could cut diamond. He pulled away, grabbed it, and guided it to her hole. "Ummm," she said, "again?"

Instead of speaking, he thrusted, her juice and his cum from last time like liquid fire. She moaned and started moving back against him, her head bowing and her arms crossed on the bed in front of her. He slammed in, pulled out, slammed in, pulled out, throwing all of his weight into it and raking his tip along her rippling walls.

"Stop," she panted and he froze. "Get out of me."

Uh...did I do something wrong? He pulled out, and she rolled onto her back, her legs going up in a V. "Grab my ankles and push."

For a second he didn't know what she meant, then it hit him. He got to his knees grabbed her ankles, and thrusted in, making her eyes roll back. Leaning forward, he pushed her legs back until her feet were on either side of her head, her walls tightening around him and her muscles bearing down. Being a little on the shorter side, he had to move his hands down to her muscular calves and lift up on his toes, but he got it, and she was so tight it made him dizzy.

Lana squeezed her eyes closed and bit her bottom lip. Her face was beet red and she was gasping for breath through her nostrils. "I never last long like this," she panted.

"I don't think I will either."

Pressing her feet flush against the bed, he thrusted and she trembled. "Oh, fuck, yes!" He pulled back and thrusted again, his dick reaching depths he never even knew a woman had. "You're riding my G-spot."

He wasn't kidding; he didn't think he'd last long at all. Hopefully she didn't either. He set a steady pace and started to immediately shake. It was coming, and he couldn't stop it. Fuck. Gritting his teeth, he threw himself deep, pulled back, then deep once more...then expanded and burst. Lana's mouth opened in a wordless scream and she, too, began to shake, each pump of his balls sending his seed into her thirsty womb. He dug his nails into her legs and rode of his orgasm. When it was over, he dropped onto the bed beside her, spent, and fought to catch his breath: His arms ached, hs knees quivered, and he was suddenly so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open.

Lana turned her head and regarded him with a devious open mouth smile. "That was really good," she said.

"How are those walls?"

"Barely intact."

Lemy sighed and Lana laughed. "You'll get it one day."

I don't wanna get it one day, damn it, I wanna get it now! Well...kind of. I'm so fucking drained I'm gonna pass out. He rolled onto his side, laid his hand on one of Lana's tits, and closed his eyes. Time for a na -

She moved from under his touch and sat up. "Alright," she said, "back at it."

Lemy's eyes opened. "W-What?"

"We got a lotta work to do," she said over her shoulder.

Seriously?

His horror must have shown, because she grinned. "What, you didn't think we weren't going to finish, did you?"

"Actually," Lemy admitted, "I was hoping to tire you out."

Lana lifted her brows. "Oh, yeah? Tired yourself out instead, huh?"

He nodded.

She offered a soft smile, leaned over, and put her hand on his forehead; her lips hovered over his and her breath filled his nose. For a second, he thought she was going to kiss him then say Oh, you poor thing, run along, I'll finish up. Instead, she patted his chest.

"Too bad. Come on."

* * *

Gwen crossed her arms self-consciously over her chest and looked nervously around: The street and sidewalks in front of the Loud house were empty save for an old man hobbling toward his mailbox and a little girl skipping rope. Thank God for small favors.

"Uh...Leia?" she asked over her shoulder, "I'm really not into this."

A gust of cold wind swept along the avenue and she shivered, goosebumps racing up and down her bare arms and legs.

Leia and Lizy sat side-by-side at a folding table laden with stacks of styrofoam cups, bags of sugar, plastic spoons, and a gourmet espresso machine. Leia's hands were interlaced on top of the table and her back was ramrod straight, lending her a perky appearance. Lizy was slouched and grinning smugly, trying her hardest to not look at Gwen but stealing glances anyway, her eyes flickering with a mocking light.

A sign was taped to the front of the table. flapping up and down in the chilly breeze: LIL' LEIA'S HOT CHOCOLATE/KISSING BOOTH. 5 W/O TONGUE, 10 W/, and, in tiny, nearly illegible print that the bottom: BLOWJOBS 100, 150 2 SWALLOW.

Leia looked at her and rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Gwen? All you're doing is holding a sign."

Gwen looked down at her chest: She was clad only in a tiny blue bikini, her stomach and legs naked and her erect nipples poking through the fabric - not because she was turned on, but because it was flipping cold out here. Not normal cold for December, but still nippy, and her body trembled slightly, her knees pressed together and her teeth chattering. The cold wasn't the worst part, though, it was being three quarters nude in front of the entire neighborhood. Sue, there weren't many people out, but she could still feel the heavy weight of a thousand eyes, and it made her blush from head to toe.

"Even so," she said, "I don't like it."

"Too bad," Leia said. "I'd have Lizy do it but no one wants to see her little shapeless body."

Lizy's head whipped around and a scowl pinched her face. Leia glanced at her and then away, her eyes blinking haughtily. "Well, it's true. You have no breasts, you have no hips, your butt is flat as a pancake, and you have chubby, yucky baby fat."

"I do not!" Lizy flashed uncharacteristically, her face darkening and her hand curling into a fist.

"Yes you - Gwen, here comes a car!"

Gwen glanced down the street as a blue sedan approached, the milky light of the overcast day sheening the windshield. She didn't move, and Leia slapped the table with her open palm, making her jump. "Alright!" Gwen cried. Uncrossing her arms, she went to the edge of the sidewalk, pebbles and dirt digging into the soles of her feet, and leaned over as far as she could, the sign lifting over her head. The car crept past, then stopped and backed up. The passenger window rolled down and a man stuck his head out: His features were sharp, his eyes fevered. He wore a baseball cap with an extra long brim (compensating for something?) and a devilish grin. Gwen's cheeks burned in shame as his eyes crawled slowly from her feet to the top of her head. The driver, dressed in sunglasses and a leather jacket, tilted forward to see around his friend, and his brows shot up quizzically.

"Hey, loli girl," the passenger said, "you goin' my way?"

Gwen's heart started to race. I'm going to be abducted and killed, aren't I? "Uh...wanna buy some hot chocolate?" she asked nervously.

The passenger bobbed his head from side-to-side in thought, then flashed a scary grin. "Yeah, sure." Gwen glanced over her shoulder; Leia was already filling a cup with steaming brown liquid. A gust of wind blew and rustled her pigtails; she finished, came around the edge of the table, and walked over, a bouncy spring in her step and a big smile plastered to her face. She brushed past Gwen and went up to the window; the man watched her come with a predatory sneer.

"Here you go, cutie," Leia said and handed him the cup. She propped her elbows on the door and leaned her head in, one finger twirling in her blonde locks.

"Thanks," the passenger leered.

"You know," Leia said, "I'm selling something else."

He took a sip of his hot chocolate and lifted his brows. "Yeah?"

Leia nodded slowly. "Umhm."

"How much?"

"150 to swallow."

Was...was she really going do this? Seeing the sign was one thing, but this...ew, gross! Leia, no!

The passenger seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

"Great," Leia said.

He opened the door and she dropped to her knees, rocking forward to reach, the hem of her skirt pulling up to reveal the pink thong beneath. Gwen's face puckered in disgust when her friend's head began to bob up and down; the man threw his head back and laid his hand on the back of her head like petting a cat, his body squirming and thrashing, putting Gwen in mind of a squashed bug writhing in its death throes. The driver's lips peeled back from his teeth in revulsion, but he didn't look away, probably couldn't, just like Gwen.

"That's it, little girl, just like that," the passenger sighed, "suck daddy Rag's peepee."

The driver shook his head, slipped a cigarette out of a pack on the dash, and lit it. "You almost done?" he asked around the filter. "We got places to be."

Rag nodded. "A-Almost."

Leia's mouth made obscene slurping noises as she worked his shaft. Gwen looked away, and her eyes fell on Lizy, who was slouched even more now, her arms crossed and a sullen expression on her face. Sadness clouded her eyes, and Gwen's heart broke. Glancing at Leia and wincing at how gross Rag was, she went over to the table, hesitating before sitting in Leia's chair. "Hey," she said softly.

In response, Lizy hugged herself even tighter.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lizy spat.

It was clear, however, that something was. Gwen opened her mouth but stopped, not wanting to push the little girl.

"I-Is this about Lemy?" she asked.

Lizy blew a puff of air through her nostrils.

Gwen vacillated, not sure whether she should let it drop or press forward. "I don't mind sharing him." she said finally, "I really don't. You don't have to be jealous or anything."

"Yes I do," Lizy sulked.

Gwen frowned. "Why?"

"Because," Lizy said, "Leia's right. I don't have boobs, I don't have hips, I'm ugly and he doesn't love me like he loves her. Or you."

The pain in the little girl's voice made Gwen wince. "That's not true. He does love you. In fact…" she glanced at Leia, who was still...ahem...preoccupied...then leaned in and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He told me you're his favorite sister."

Lizy turned her head to Gwen, and hope flickered in her eyes...then it was gone and she sighed. "He doesn't love me like that, though. He acts weird and stuff around me. Like he doesn't even like me anymore." Tears brimmed in her eyes and she bowed her head. "I love him so much and he doesn't love me."

With that she broke down, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. "Oh, honey, that's not true," Gwen said and slipped her arm around the weeping girl. "He does love you, and you are not ugly. You're just as beautiful as Leia." Gwen looked over at Leia; Rag held her head to his crotch and thrusted his hips with a cry. Her pace slackened, which told Gwen he was filling her mouth. "And not as gross," she added.

"No I'm not," Lizy grumbled, "I'm not pretty and Lemy doesn't love me, he loves you."

Well...that wasn't wrong. Lemy said (and she believed him) that he didn't love any of his aunts or sisters beyond the confines of normal family love (minus the sex, of course). "Do you love him?" she asked. "Like...love-love?"

Lizy nodded haltingly. "I think so. Whenever he's around my stomach feels all fluttery and my chest tingles, and sometimes I can't stop thinking about him."

Gwen nodded. She knew that feeling very well. "I guess you do," she said. Okay...she was in love with Lemy. She suspected as much, but hoped she was wrong because Lemy didn't feel the same way back.

At least...not yet.

"He just hasn't seen you like that yet," Gwen said and cupped the back of Lizy's neck, "to him, you're his little sis...but maybe he'll come around. You just have to work at it."

Lizy sniffed and considered for a moment, then turned her watery eyes to Gwen. "I-I don't know how. Will you help me?"

"Yes," Gwen said instantly, the pleading in the little girl's voice too sharp, too desperate to ignore.

Lizy's face brightened like the sun shining through dark clouds, and a big, happy grin broke across her face.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Leia said in a singsong voice as she plucked a stack of bills from Rag's hand. She wiped the corners of her mouth with her index finger as she came over. In the car, Rag watched her go, nodding in appreciation of her ass. The driver favored him with a repulsed look.

"How does it feel to be a pedophile?" he asked around the filter of his cigarette.

Rag grinned stupidly. "Feels like my soul just got sucked out my dick."

The driver shook his head, threw the car into drive, and pressed on the gas.

At the table, Leia counted the money, her lips silently moving and her head nodding, then she slipped it into the pocket of her skirt. "Well," she said happily, "I'm 155 dollars richer."

Gwen and Lizy looked at each other, their faces both puckering. Leia turned, leaned back against the table, and scrunched her lips from side to side. "I think there's a pube in my teeth…"

* * *

That night, Lemy dropped into bed at 1am, so weary and muscle-sore he couldn't even roll off of his stomach; guess I'll just suffocate. Gwen was asleep when he came in, but woke at the movement of the mattress. "Hey," she said tiredly.

Lemy grunted.

"How do you feel?" she asked and rubbed her hand between his shoulder blades.

"Dead," he replied.

First, he and Lana finished sanding the walls, then they patched the crack, painted, installed the rest of he outlet covers, light fixtures, sanded all of the doors, replaced Lola's because it wasn't hung right, padded the floor, then laid carpet. Maybe it happened in that order, maybe it didn't. He didn't fucking know; the day was a blur of work and his mind was just as spent as his body.

"I'm sorry," Gwen said earnestly and kissed his cheek. "I need to talk to you about something."

Lemy snorted.

"I know you're tired, but it's really important."

Lemy didn't reply, and you know what they say: Silence gives consent. "It's Lizy," she sighed, "she's in love with you and she thinks you don't love her, like, at all because you've been acting weird around her. I know you think it's gross, but maybe -"

Gwen frowned and patted Lemy's back. "Lemy?"

Snore.


	7. Learning Lizy

**Guest: I'm doing good. I'm still around, just working on a couple projects and trying to build up a nice surplus of content before posting my next story. **

**Guest: At the end of We Still Love Our Brother, Lisa wiped everyone's memories, so Lincoln doesn't remember having sex with Carol or Ronnie Anne.**

* * *

**Lyrics to Noise Level Critical by Tigertailz (1990)**

Poke.

Gwen furrowed shifted in her sleep with a tired mutter. Get your dick out of my face, Lemy, I'm too sleepy to give you a blowjob.

Poke. Poke-poke-poke, right in the cheek; she could feel it pressing against her teeth through her flesh. Sighing, she opened her eyes...and started. Lizy stood at the edge of the bed, her face obscured by shadows. She was dressed in only a long red T-shirt that came down to her knees. Her blonde hair spilled down her shoulders in a messy tangle, and when she saw that Gwen was awake, she pulled her hand back and flashed a big, sheepish smile. "Hi."

Gwen blinked and looked at clock on the nightstand: 5:45am. She turned to the little girl in confusion. "What's wrong?" she asked, unconsciously lowering her voice to a whisper so she didn't wake Lemy.

"I gotta talk to you," Lizy said.

"About what?" Gwen asked.

Lizy's eyes grew to twice their normal size. "Something real important."

For a moment Gwen hesitated; part of her wanted to tell Lizy to get lost, but if she was waking her this early, it must be serious. "Alright," she muttered and swung her legs out from under the cover. "Let's go out in the hall or something."

The hallway was dark and silent at this hour, and Gwen felt a rush of surreality; the Loud house was never empty and quiet, and seeing it now was like seeing someone without their glasses: Familiar but different at the same time. Light from the living room painted the wall and provided scant illumination. "Who's down there?" Gwen asked.

"I was," Lizy said and started down.

Gwen followed, holding tight to the handrail because she still wasn't 100 percent awake and when she was like this she was clumsy. Once, she walked right into the bathroom door and gave herself a black eye. When Mr. Loud saw it, he shot Lemy a dirty look. "I swear I didn't do it," he said and threw up his hands. When she told Mr. Loud she walked into the door, he hummed his incredulity and crossed his arms...then laughed and smacked Lemy's arm. I know you couldn't do that. Strangely, that offended Lemy so much he was talking about it hours later. He thinks I can't give a girl a black eye. Pfft. I oughta show him what's up and give him a black eye.

In the living room, Lizy dropped onto the couch and Gwen sat next to her, then brushed a strand of hair out of her face and turned to the blonde. "What's up?"

Lizy stared at the darkened TV screen, her eyes leaden and her bottom lip sucked into her mouth as if in thought. Something was obviously troubling her, and Gwen knew exactly what it was: Yesterday, she agreed to help Lizy with Lemy, and if Gwen was right, the little girl wanted to start now.

Finally, Lizy turned to her but couldn't meet her eyes. "I wanna know about grown up stuff."

A hot blush spread across Gwen's face. "I thought you already knew," she said. Living here it was impossible not to know the basics: Mr. Loud and his sisters (and his daughters) did it everywhere. You'd walk into the kitchen to get something to eat, and he'd be bending Lupa over the counter, or you'd come through the door and Lyra would be riding him on the couch. Gwen didn't know how long it had been that way, but she assumed Lizy had seen so much of it that she understood the fundamentals of sex, or had at least been given the talk.

"Well...I kind of know," she said haltingly, "like...the boy gets on the girl and humps her, but that's pretty much it."

"You haven't...watched your dad?"

Lizy shook her head.

"Your mom hasn't talked to you?"

Again, Lizy shook her head. "No. Mom said I'm too young for that."

Okay, yeah, Gwen could see Lana's point, she was a little young, but when it comes to sex, the Loud girls age in, like dog years or something. Take Leia: She was eleven but much, much older as far as sexua maturity went. Lemy told her she'd never had technical sex with her father because he couldn't fit (holy moley, how big is he?), but even before she fucked Lemy she was far more advanced than 99 percent of girls her age. Lana really she have sat Lizy down already.

Now she was asking her and...wow, that's really awkward.

She did promise to help her, though, and if that included giving her the talk...alright. "Well," she started haltingly, "uh, you know that boys have a penis and girls have a vagina, right?"

Lizy's eyebrows angled down in a V. "I'm not a baby, Gwen, I know that."

"Okay. Well...when the boy gets turned on, his penis gets hard and he puts it in the girl's vagina."

"Inside?" Lizy asked, her jaw dropping.

Gwen nodded.

"H-How does that work?"

Gwen faltered. She wasn't sure how much Lizy knew about her body. When she was six, she didn't know anything other than it looked like a posterior, so she called it her front butt, a phrase her mother found 'crass' and 'repulsive.' She expected Lizy to know a little more, but she was wrong once already. "There's a hole...down there," she said, "and the penis goes into it."

Lizy's forehead crinkled in befuddlement as she processed this new and strange information, then, with an uninhibitedness characteristic of the Loud girl, she slipped her hand under the hem of her shirt to see for herself, one eye squinting and the tip of her tongue plastering against her upper lip in concentration. Her arm wiggled as she explored the spot between her legs, and a blush touched her face as her body began to respond to the stimulation. Her eyes widened when she presumably found her opening. "Oh, wow," she said, "I didn't know that was there."

"Have you ever masturbated?" Gwen asked.

Lizy stared blankly.

"Played with yourself," Gwen clarified.

The little girl nodded. "Umhm. I play with myself all the time."

"What do you do?"

For a moment Lizy didn't reply, then her eyes darted to her lap. "Well..I kind of...rub my thing. You know, the little thing on top?"

Gwen nodded. "That's your clit. Do you ever get turned on?"

Taking her hand out from beneath her shirt, Lizy held her fingers up to the light; they sheened silver with her juices. "Yep," she said proudly.

"Without touching yourself?"

Lizy's gaze lowered. "Yeah," she said heavily, as if admitting to some terrible deformity, "weird, huh?"

"Not at all," Gwen said, "it's normal." She hesitated. "What...makes you wet?"

For a long time Lizy stared down at her lap, her brow pinching as she considered the question and collected her thoughts. Gwen already knew what she was going to say, and she didn't blame the little blonde one bit: She got wet over the same thing. "When I think about Lemy," she finally said, "like...when he comes out of his room in just his underwear and I can see the outline of his thing and I start imagining what it would feel like in my hand and how his skin would taste if I trailed kisses up his stomach and chest and then imagine him kissing me and playing with my hair." Her cheeks were furiously flushed now and her eyes were muddled with unmistakable lust. "Oh, and him holding me in his arms and kissing the back of my neck and running his hands over my body...and rubbing my clip as he tells me he loves me." She sighed dreamily. "In fact, I'm getting wet right now."

Wow. That was really detailed...far more detailed than Gwen expected. She figured Lizy certainly had it in her, but she was surprised that she was able to articulate it so well. When she first started feeling sexual desire herself, she just knew that looking at pictures of her 'father' made her heart race and her front butt feel squishy. Of course, she was making a huge mistake using herself as a touchstone: The Loud girls (and boys) were a different breed altogether.

"Alright," Gwen said, not sure how to continue, "he's…" she sighed. "His thing is pretty big and it might not fit in you."

Lizy's brow furrowed. "How big is it?"

"Very big," Gwen said, "sometimes it even hurts me."

"Wow," the little girl breathed as though the thought of it hurting Gwen was mind-blowing, the way a child might feel when she finds out that even Daddy isn't bulletproof. "It doesn't hurt all the time, though, right?"

Gwen shook her head. "Nope. Most of the time it feels really good." A smile touched her lips and a hot blush spread across her cheeks as her mind turned to the sensation of Lemy penetrating her, to the feeling of his head raking along her walls and stoking the fires of her arousal from a tiny ember to a roaring inferno...then finally to a heart-stopping, toe-curling explosion. She giggled and unconsciously rubbed her thighs together, the hot, heady friction making her breath catch.

Her eyes went to Lizy, who watched her with slack-jawed amazement, and she forced herself to stop. "That good, huh?" Lizy asked.

Gwen nodded. "Yes. It hurt a little the first time, but after a minute or two, once my body got used to him, it started to feel good. You're a lot smaller than me, so it'll probably hurt a lot more...if he can literally even get it in."

A shadow of anxiety flickered across Lizy's face. "You really think he won't be able to?"

She looked the little girl up and down; Lizy flashed a strained smile as if to increase her chances of being told that Lemy would fit. "I don't know," Gwen said seriously, "Maybe?" Lizy looked like she was about to cry, and Gwen's heart panged. "But," she hurriedly added, "you guys can do other stuff together. Stuff that feels just as good."

"Like what?" Lizy asked and scooted closer, her eyes wide with childish curiosity.

"Well," Gwen said, "he can rub your clit, and put his fingers in you-"

"Does that feel good?" Lizy asked and snuggled to Gwen like a little girl preparing to be read a bedtime story. Something about the gesture touched Gwen deeply, and she fought back the urge to put her arm around her shoulders.

"Yes, it feels amazing. But it feels even better when he eats you."

Lizy's head whipped up, her face puckering in horror. Gwen laughed. "Not, like, literally eats you. That's what they call it when a boy licks your pussy."

Understanding slowly dawned in Lizy's eyes. "I saw Daddy doing that to Lupa. She looked like she liked it."

"It feels so good," Gwen said and laughed, "like, oh my God, And Lemy's really good at it. He does this thing with his tongue that Liby taught him and it's enough to make you cum in seconds."

Lizy's eyes lit up. "Yeah?" she asked breathlessly.

"Umhm," Gwen said, "he literally makes my knees shake when he does it." She was starting to feel very warm (and a little damp) between her legs, and she pressed her thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. Talking (and thinking) about Lemy's lovin' (all rights reserved) was really turning her on; as soon as she was done with Lizy, she was going to go upstairs and pounce him like a hungry lioness - he could be her wounded prey. Rawr.

For a moment Lizy looked at her, then sighed, her eyes filling with sadness. "He doesn't wanna do that stuff with me, though," she sulked.

That was true, but last night before drifting off to sleep, she had a revelation. Lemy told her that his father told him that Lisa told him (whew) that the reason his sisters and aunts were all suddenly jumping his bones was that they never, like, thought to look at him as a sex partner. They saw him as Lemy their little nephew (and bro) who wasn't ready for sex or else he'd have come to them. True, Lizy went to Lemy and he wasn't really into the idea, but that was because he was still seeing her as his little sister and not the bright-eyed, cutely inexperienced but eager to please virgin she was - guys like that kind of thing, right? Gwen wasn't gay (maybe a little bi), but it was kind of starting to turn her on. She could clearly see Lemy lying back in bed while Lizy kissed and pawed his chest and stomach, so hot she was trembling, clumsy like Bambi on ice but making up for it with enthusiasm...she could also see herself guiding the little girl's hand and kissing her, swirling her tongue around hers and tasting her virgin mouth.

A shiver raced down Gwen's spine and she shuddered.

"You okay?" Lizy asked.

God, I'm turning into a pervert. Pretty soon my transformation will be complete and I'll literally be a Loud, whether Lemy marries me or not.

Um, I'd rather become one that way, though. ;)

"I'm fine," she said and glanced at the little girl, but felt a rush of shame and looked away. "I have an idea to get Lemy to like you. I don't know if it'll work, but...I think it might."

Beaming from ear to ear, Lizy fisted her hands in excitement. "What is it?" she asked.

Gwen opened her mouth but closed it again as she collected her thoughts. "You have to get him to notice you," she said, "as a girl, not his sister."

"How do I do that?" Lizy asked.

Gwen looked the little girl up and down. Lemy liked all types of girls - jocks (like Lynn), tomboys (like Lana) - but his favorite, hands down, even if he never said so, were girly-girls, like Lola and Leia. He was attracted, she reckoned, to femininity: Dresses, make-up - all the things that made a girl a girl.

Gwen took a deep breath. "By learning from the master."

Hours and hours later, after school, Gwen and Lizy sat side-by-side on the edge of a bed, Gwen's hands clasped to her knees and Lizy's face glowing with a hopeful expression. "...and that's why we're here," Gwen finished. "Can you help us?"

Leia, arms crossed and hip cocked, bunched her lips and hummed in thought, her blue shadowed eyes lidding and her lush pigtails rustling like summer silk as she turned her head from Gwen to Lizy. She looked the little girl up and down, appraising her, judging her, and Lizy flashed a toothy smile. "So," Leia said, "you want Lemy to notice you." It was a statement, not a question.

Lizy nodded eagerly.

"Well, first thing's first, honey; you gotta walk the walk." She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. "Pretend I'm Lemy and I just walked into the room. What do you do?"

The little girl's eyes lit up and she preened. "Hi, Lem!" Her glowing smile fell a little when Leia shook her head. "Uh...Hi, Lemy?"

"Uh, no," Leia said pointedly. "Let's try this again. You be Lemy and I'll be me." She went to the foot of the bed then strutted past her sister, the sway of her hips an over-the-shoulder glance at Lizy, she stopped and lifted one heel from the floor, her sultry eyes flicking up and down the little girl's body. "Hi, Lemy," she drew in a low, honeyed voice. "That's how you do it; sweet and subtle. Now you try."

Looking uncomfortable, Lizy got to her feet and looked down at Gwen. "No," Leia commanded, "don't look at her until you've passed her. The point is to build suspense...then to 'notice' him at the last minute."

"O-Okay," Lizy said. She averted her eyes, took a few steps back, then walked past Gwen just as casually as you please. When she was past, she looked over her shoulder and blinked deeply. "Hi, Lemy."

Leia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, no, no. You have to be sexy, Liz, sexy."

"I don't know how!" Lizy protested.

Shaking her head, Leia came over and put her hands on her little sister's hps. "Move your hips when you walk, and when you talk to Lemy...think of all the things you want to do to him." She moved Lizy's hips from side to side with her hands and leaned over her shoulder until her lips were almost touching her ear. "It helps to be turned on. Lemy turns you on, doesn't he?"

Lizy nodded. "Y-Yeah."

"Good. Think about his chiseled chest and his flat stomach...and the big, yummy bulge in his underwear."

Lizy stiffened and Leia drew away. "Try it again."

The older girl sat next to Gwen and crossed her legs, the hem of her skirt pulling back from her knee. Lizy swallowed and called up a vision of Lemy lying in his bed, naked save for his boxers. Her eyes traveled from his chest down to his feet and back again, lingering on his bulge. Her heart pounded and her flesh burned with fever.

"H-H-Hey, L-L-Lemy," she stammered.

Leia hung her head. "This is going to take longer than I thought," she said.

* * *

Lemy dropped onto the sofa next to Lupa and kicked his feet onto the coffee table with a deep sigh. It was four in the afternoon and Gwen was doing 'girl stuff' with Leia and Lizy, what the fuck ever that meant. Probably lezzing out. He glanced over at Lupa, who sat Indian style with a notepad in her lap, drawing, and scrunched his lips to the side in thought. Should he put the moves on her? He was kind of horny, but that's like saying...I dunno...he kind of breathed air: Being a Loud with fucked up DNA, he was always kind of horny. So far he'd been with Leia, Lyra, Liby, Lacy, Lola, Lynn, Luan, Lana...am I missing any? That's eight women, holy shit; the national average for a twenty-five year old is, like, six or something, which put him so fucking far ahead of the game it was stupid. And that's not even counting Gwen. So nine. Nine girls opened their legs for him. Guess my life isn't BS after all.

Then again, of those nine, eight were family members, so that kind of negates it a little. Seriously, you can't walk around pounding your chest because you fucked your sister. What is this, Kentucky?

Hm...yeah, no, not right now. He'd save his load for Gwen: He wanted to try out that position he used on Lana, ya know, the one where he rolled her up like a pillbug. Something told him Gwen would fucking love it, and he wanted as much nut saved up as possible - so much that her tummy felt all sloshy afterwards, so much that her womb couldn't help but be fertilized.

I know, I know, Lem, you're, like, ten, what's this shit about fertilizing wombs, dog? Well...I kind of like the idea of, ya know, having a kid with Gwen. *Holds hands up quickly and forestalling* I know, I'm a goddamn nut and it's probably some kinda weird fetish that I shouldn't pursue because we're talking a person's life here, but her carrying my baby, getting big and pregnant, and then us raising it together...it gives me this funny feeling, like, uh...like a spiritual hard on or something. I'd like a son, but I'd like a daughter too, you know, to play fairy princess shit with; that'd be awesome. I'm kinda worried, though. Knowing what I am - the fucked up DNA/brain, whatever it is thanks to Doctor Frankenho - I'm afriad I might...do stuff with my daughter. Looking ahead now, I can say 'nope, miss me' but what if I actually get there and it's different? Or what if I get there and she wants me and being a pervert I can't say no?

Dad does his daughters and that's fine, whatever - it's just not for me. At least I think it's not, and I don't want it to be, but I really won't know until I'm there with my daughter in my lap grinding herself against my crotch. Daddy, let's play.

He shuddered violently, and Lupa looked up, her brow creasing. "What's wrong with you?" she asked, her voice flat as three day old soda.

"Nothing," Lemy said, "it's just, uh, cold in here."

She stared blankly. "No it's not."

"Yeah, well, it is to me." With that, he crossed his arms and turned to the TV - the matter is settled that gesture said. Onscreen, Alex Trebek hosted Jeopardy! from a wheelchair, an IV stand looming over him. He was ninety-eight and trying his damnedest to be the first game show host to still be doing his thing at one hundred (Regis Philbin died on air at ninety-nine). He could feel Lupa's eyes on him and he fought real hard not to meet them. After a moment, she turned back to her drawing and didn't speak for a long time.

"A type of person you might not want to associate with," Trebek said.

The middle contestant hit his buzzer. "What is a bitch ass nigga?"

Trebek missed a beat and looked to his left as if for guidance. "We'll accept that. We would also have accepted 'punk nigga.'"

"So," Lupa said without looking up from her lap, "how're you and Gwen doing?"

Lemy nodded. "Good." Uh, should he ask how she and Dad were doing? Seemed kinda rude to just say good and nothing else.

"That's nice," she said, then: "Do you love her?"

The question caught him off-guard. He and Lupa were close - as close as two introverts can be, anyway, but they rarely talked deep, ya know? Their conversations were about things, not emotions. Sometimes they got profound, but those instances were few and far between. "Yeah," he said, "I do."

Lupa hummed.

She didn't sound impressed.

"What?" he asked defensively.

Lupa shrugged one shoulder. "She just doesn't seem like your type."

"Yeah? And what's my type?"

The tip of her pencil danced across the page and her eyes swept back and forth, her eyebrows lowering ever so slightly as if in displeasure at a certain angle or line. "Someone like Lyra," she said. "Or me."

Lemy blinked.

"I'm not coming onto you," she said, "I'm just giving you an example. Gwen's too much like Leia. Airhead girly-girl. Fun to fuck, but to be in a serious relationship with?" She shook her head. "It just puzzles me."

Okay, first of all, did this white hair, Lincoln Loud in drag looking bitch just call Gwen an airhead? Second, Gwen was not like Leia. Leia was...look, he was into Leia (not in love with her, just into), but, objectively speaking, she was kind of a snooty little bitch. She was cool to him now that he was dicking her and making her toes curl, but before? Man, that girl was a haughty nightmare, looking at him down her nose and acting like he was trash or something. Gwen was different. Yeah, she was closer to Leia in matters of taste and stuff, but her personality was completely different. She was more caring and down to earth (I hate that phrase, by the way, but not as much as I hate 'laidback.' Dunno why).

She was also not a fucking airhead. He kinda thought the same thing when he first met her, but she was a lot deeper than she looked. Lupa would know that if she wasn't so goddamn standoffish.

"You obviously don't know her very well," he said. On TV, Trebek's chin lolled against his chest and loud, sawing snores drifted from his nose. A tech in headphones rushed out and shook him awake.

Lupa hummed.

"Have you ever even talked to her?"

She didn't reply for a beat. "A couple times."

Lemy rolled his eyes. "I mean more than can you hurry up in the bathroom?"

"No," Lupa deadpanned.

Yeah, that's what I thought. "You should get to know her. She wants to get to know you, but you're intimidating."

"Good."

For some reason that made him mad. "No, it's not good. Gwen's a sweet, sensitive girl whose mother and stepfather verbally and emotionally abused her. She thinks she's shit, she's ashamed because she feels like she's living off us, she's out of her element in someone else's home, and she just wants to be accepted." His face was flushed and his heart slammed an angry pattern against his ribs. "She's going through a lot, and the last shit she needs is someone intentionally intimidating her like she deserves it."

Lupa was looking at him now, her eyes narrowed just a tick, which told him she felt something other than that goddamn manufactured apathy. "I don't intentionally do anything to her," she said.

"Like talking to her and finding out who she is," he said sourly.

Her eyes narrowed even more.

"You'd rather make stupid, baseless ass assumptions." He shook his head and took a deep breath that did little to relieve the pressure weighing on his chest. "I do love her and I'd like you to get to know her. Can you try that?"

He turned to her, and she looked back at her drawfag pad. "Whatever," she muttered in a tone that told him the conversation was over. Fine, fucking asshole. She could be cool, but she could also be a goddamn dick, and right now she was being a dick and Lemy didn't want shit to do with her. He got up, went around the edge of the couch, and climbed the stairs. I'll just smoke a jay and listen to some music while I wait for Gwen.

In his room, he sat on the edge of the bed, reached into his nightstand, and pulled out a baggie of weed. The stash he pulled out of the Zenith way back in the day finally ran out the day after he tried to buy from Dino. For a while he went without, then one day he was cutting through the junkyard on his way home when some tall, lanky asshole snatched him up by the back of the shirt. The hell you doin' in my junkyard, boy? Sounded like one of those dudes from Deliverance, and Lemy's butthole puckered defensively. The guy spun him around, and Lemy's eyes instantly went to the fat joint jutting from his thin lips. He was about fifty with a balding head, faded blue eyes, and a scraggly beard. He wore what hair he had left in a ponytail and had a face so rough you could strike a match on it.

I was just passing through, man, chill.

Dude gave him the stink eye - his eyeball literally bulged outta his socket, it was gross - then sat him down. Well git.

Sure. Uh...wanna sell me some weed first?

No.

C'mon, dude, I haven't had grass in, like, a week. Take pity on me.

Long story short, the guy took pity on him. His name was Drew and he seemed pretty cool; Lemy bought from him twice more, and every time he rolled up on him, Drew was sitting at this plastic patio table drinking beer and blasting Judas Priest and shit. He lived in a trailer surrounded by piles of junk and walked with a limp; said he fought in the Second Korean War and took a bullet at the Battle of Tokyo, but he was old so he probably just had gout or something.

Presently, Lemy rolled a blunt, plopped it into his mouth, and went through the stack of tapes on his desk - he picked them up at a thrift store for a quarter a pop. Lol, wut, they're selling 5150 for that? Sammy Hagar's the man! He settled on one, popped it into the Zenith, and held his lighter to the business end of the joint as crunchy, glitzy glam metal sashayed gayly out of the speakers.

D'ya ever get a night when

You feel alright but your

Folks been drivin' you mad

Got a needle in the groove

And you're ready to move

Hit, hold, exhale. And cough. Can't forget that. This stuff wasn't as good as what he found in the Zenith, but, hey, it got the job done...more or less. The Z-strain knocked him on his ass, this stuff just want him want to listen to Black and White by Three Dog Night and imagine Klansmen holding hands with black panthers and singing about unity. Strange, I know, but I was high, brah, give me a break.

He took another drag, the smoke pinching the back of his throat and making him hitch. That shit with Lupa really pissed him off. Gwen was such a beautiful person and Lupa wanted to be an asshole because Oooh, I'm emo just like my mom and I wear it on my sleeve how much I don't care but I do otherwise I wouldn't advertize it. Pfft.

Y'hit the power and you're

Feelin' bad, if you wanna

Unwind, get outta your mind

Get hip to the crazy sound

When that music comes through

There's nothin' you can do

Cause you're never gonna

Turn it down, tell me now!

She just doesn't wanna put in the effort, you know? She wants to be cool and aloof and act like she's sooo much cooler than everyone else. Maybe she has problems of her own, ya know, like me. Maybe I should talk to her instead of listening to butt rock and bitching to myself.

The noise level's critical

Turn It down

Turn It down down

The noise level's critical

Turn It down

Turn It down down

Now I feel like an asshole. Why does it always come back on me? Lupa acts like a D-bag and I wind up feeling like I did something wrong. Overthinking, maybe? Dad does the same shit. Hm. Guess we Loud men are just bitches.

If ya can't stand the heat

Find another beat 'cuz the

Music's gonna play an' play

When the going gets tough

I turn to that stuff

I need to do something to get my man levels up; kill a grizzly bear with a Bowie knife or get taken prisoner by the Vietcong and force fed maggots for eight months while John McCain chills in the next cage over.

Or I can rut into one of the twenty chicks who are always DTF for my big monster sized dick.

Eh, I'm manly enough. Where was I? Oh, right, puff, puff, pass, nigga. Big Worm's head in the salad bowl. You smokin' my shit too, nigga? Imma kill you and Smoky! He snickered. That was a good movie. The second one too. Say you have an important message for a Mr. William Jones.

Yeah, I got a important message for a nigga name Willie..

*SLAP!*

Black people make funny movies. TV shows too. Remember Chappelle's Show? I'M RICK JAMES, BITCH! FUCK YO COUCH, NIGGA, FUCK YO COUCH! Hit, hold, exhale. Where's Gwen? I miss her. I know we've only been apart...actually, it's been the whole day. Goddamn; much more and I'm gonna curl up on the bathroom floor hugging myself like Junkie in The Last House on the Left. What was that song in that movie? Oh, man, I can't remember, but it was dumb as shit, totally fucking...outta vibe with the whole rape/murder/revenge motif. Had a kuzuo in it. Sounded like some Tiny Tim shit. LOL!

If ya can't stand the pace

get outta my face! 'cuz I'm

Doin' what I wanna do

I'm really high now. Time to bust out 3DN and pretend it's that Coke commercial.

He stubbed out the joint and laid back on the bed.

Or go to -

Snore.

* * *

"A-Are you sure about this?" Lizy asked hesitantly and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, a frown of uncertainty crossing her red tinged lips.

Liena put her hands on the little girl's shoulders and bent over so that their reflections were one on top of the other, a big, cheesy grin spreading across her face. "You are adorable," she said. Lizy looked at Leia and Gwen, who stood side-by-side, and both nodded. She turned to her image once more and examined her countance: Her cheeks were touched with rouge, her eyes were black with a smidge of eyeliner, and her lips were faintly, uh, stuck. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a silver chain hung around her throat, the attached heart pendent resting against the hollow between where her breasts would be if she had any.

The makeover was Leia's idea. If you want to play the part, it helps to look the part. She and Gwen brought her to Liena, and they made her dress up in a yucky miniskirt, high heels, and a white button-up shirt like Leia and Gwen wore to school. Oh, and they borrowed a tie from Liby. It felt like she was being choked and she didn't like it. She also didn't like being all dolled up and girly. Bleh.

But that's what Lemy liked and she liked Lemy, so...what are ya gonna do?

"Now practice your walk again," Leia said.

Lizy sighed. She didn't want to practice her dumb walk. She wanted to practice kissing and stuff...on Lemy. Slumping her shoulders, she got up and almost fell over; her heart leapt into her chest and her hand shot out, catching the edge of the vanity. Leia rolled her eyes, and Lizy blushed with embarrassment. Gwen flashed an encouraging smile. "Dumb shoes," Lizy said and pulled herself up, then waddled shakily to the middle of the room like a little blonde penguin, the heels clunking and her arms out on either side for balance.

Liena frowned. "Uh, guys, maybe we she have her take the heels off."

"No," Leia snapped, "the heels are vital. She needs to be as feminine as possible; those heels make up for her flat, Kansas looking chest. If we jettison those we might as well put her back in her shorts and T-shirt like a trailer park slob."

Hurt flickered across Lizy's face, and Gwen rammed her elbow into Leia's side. "No offense," Leia added.

No, she was right, she was a slob; she was messy and smelly sometimes and played in the dirt. Leia, on the other hand, was like a pretty princess, and Lemy looked at her with bedroom eyes that Lizy prayed he would one day turn on her...but wouldn't as long as she was...herself. She was reminded of that Adam and Eve story from the Bible, how they were naked and didn't know it, but when they ate the smart fruit they realized it and got ashamed. She didn't know she was a filthy, nasty slob until she wanted Lemy to like her...and until Leia told her she was.

"Go on," Leia said, "pr -wait a minute."

She came over and knelt. Producing a ruler from seemingly nowhere, she held it up to one of Lizy's legs. "Your socks aren't pulled up far enough. They need to be as high as possible." She tugged Lizy's socks up to nearly her knee, and Lizy winced as the fabric bit into her toes. "Guys like that kind of thing," the older girl said and got to her feet. "Makes you look like a loli."

Lizy's brow pinched. How...did that make her look like a lollipop? Lollipops don't even wear socks. She didn't question her sister, though, because she knew how to get Lemy's bedroom look, and she was convinced that if she did exactly what she was told, she would too. "Now do your walk," Leia said and made a shooing gesture with her hands.

Alright. She had to focus and perfect her walk. Drawing a deep breath, she took a wobbly step forward and threw her arms up when she felt herself beginning to tip; her knees knocked together and her ankles quivered painfully. Liena watched with sympathetic concern and Gwen frowned slightly. She turned to Leia, who simply lifted her brows as if to say go on, and nervously bit her bottom lip. It made her anxious to have so many people watching her, judging her, finding her lac -

She pitched forward and her heart blasted painfully against her chest. She threw up her hands and landed hard on them, the air rushing from her lungs in a breathless oof, her hair fluttering behind her like a white flag of surrender. "Really, Lizy," Leia sighed.

Gwen and Liena hurried over and knelt on either side of her. "You okay, honey?" Liena asked and rubbed a comforting circle between her shoulder blades.

Hot tears filled her eyes and her lips began to tremble, but she wouldn't let herself cry; her mom always said when life throws you off you get right back on, and that's what she was going to do. Crying like a baby wouldn't get her anywhere, but practicing her walk would. "I-I'm fine," she said and pushed herself up.

"Take the heels off," Liena said softly, "you don't -"

Leia cut her off. "Yes, she does."

"No, she doesn't." Liena's tone was firm. "She's, like, a beautiful little girl without heels, and if Lemy can't see that, he's totes dumb."

Lizy reared up on her feet and started to fall back, but flung out her arms and regained her balance. "No, it's okay," she said, "I wanna wear the heels."

"Are you sure?" Gwen asked. "I mean...it's not that big a deal. I don't wear heels and -"

"You have breasts," Leia pointed out, "she does not. She has to work harder."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "You don't have breasts either."

Liena nodded. "It's true. Your chest looks like a boy's."

Scarlet shot across Leia's face, and her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "I have natural femininity."

Gwen and Liena looked at each other.

"Really, it's fine," Lizy said, cutting off any further argument. "I just wanna practice my walk."

And then, she thought, maybe Lemy will love me.


	8. Loan Gets a Job

**Lyrics to Why Don't You Get a Job? by The Offspring (1998)**

"Loan, this living room is literally disgusting."

So began another day in the life of Loan Loud. It was Saturday, her brother, sisters, and Gwen were all preoccupied, and she thought she was going to get some alone time with her X-Station 6000, but noooo, Mom had to come along and fuck everything up just like she always did. Loan, your body stinks, take a bath; Loan, you've been wearing the same DOOM hoodie for two weeks, it's dirty and covered in food; Loan, get a job and stop acting like a child. It was enough to drive you out of your damn head.

Mom, you see, was a goooo-getter. She wore a power suit, carried a briefcase, and expected Loan to be some overachieving pussy who spent her life climbing ladders she didn't want to climb and gaining the respect of people she didn't like. To Mom, if you weren't carrying around a Blackberry like a junkie with a needle, you were a slacker and didn't apply yourself. Stop staying up all night playing MMORPGs and VCing with people on Discord. Get up early, Loan, give up your dreams and your passions to work in a cubicle like a respectable conformist.

Pfft. Might as well go to prison.

"Are you listening to me?" Mom demanded.

Loan ignored her and stared at the screen: Nazi vampires in white camo were swarming out of the snow. Her objective was to get past them and infiltrate Castle Von Strangelove, where Dr. Strangelove, the mad Nazi scientist, was building a doomsday weapon that would turn the entire world into the living dead. If…

The screen went dark and Loan's eyes widened. She turned her head, and her mother threw the cord onto the floor. "I am sick and tired of you doing this, young lady. Look at the filth." She gestured wildly. "Look at how literally nauseating this living room is."

Loan looked around. Empty Mountain Dew bottles, crumpled bags of Doritos, half eaten tacos from Taco Bell, loose Skittles, rotting Hot Pockets, and crumbs crowded the coffee table. The floor around her was littered with trash, bits of food, and used tissues from where she was too lazy to go to her room to jill off - the carpet was just as stained and sticky as the crotch of her sweatpants.

"I don't see a problem," she said defiantly.

Mom's brow shot up. "Because you are the problem."

Oh. Okay. That does wonders for my self-esteem. Thank you for that.

"You're twenty-one," Mom said with strained patience, "you live here rent free, you don't have to pay for literally anything. You do no chores, you don't cook, you don't clean, you don't babysit." She slapped her open palm on each point for emphasis. "The least you can do is pick up after yourself."

Sigh. Here we go again: A laundry list of reasons I'm the worst daughter ever. Are you going to give me a Powerpoint presentation too, Mom? Whip out the charts and graphs comparing me to everyone else? Why can't you be more like Liena? At least she keeps house. You can't even be bothered to do that.

No, it's not that I won't do it, I can't do it because I get overwhelmed. I can't help it. In fact, it's your fault: You're the one who decided to have an incest baby with your brother. Whatever problems I have are on you, lady.

"..and your father works so hard, then he has to come home to this pigsty left by his grown daughter. You need a job. You need to learn to drive…"

Loan rolled her eyes. Mom knew she couldn't drive. Every time she got behind the wheel she got overwhelmed and started to shake. She wasn't like Lacy or Lupa who could fool themselves into thinking they were hot shit; Loan knew she had issues, and she absolutely did not trust herself to pilot a two ton death machine filled with combustible liquid. She'd freeze up or do something wrong and BOOM. It'd make the car crash from From the Wreckage look like a fucking joke.

"...learn to do laundry and cook for yourself…"

And shrink my clothes and burn the house down? Didn't Mom remember the last time she 'cooked'? She added too much oil or something to the pan and the flames roasted the bottom of the range hood. She locked up and if Lyra didn't grab the fire extinguisher and put it out, the entire house would have gone up, and everyone in it, too.

"...bathe regularly like a normal person, and stop masturbating in front of everyone."

Loan stared at the darkened TV screen, her face set in a hard glower. She was starting to get overwhelmed, just like she always did when her mother bitched her out. And maybe a little hurt too.

Or a lot hurt.

I get it, I'm a piece of shit, do you really have to rub my face in it?

Yes, apparently, she did; she stood there with her arms crossed and her hip cocked, hair done up and glasses on her face because uh, I'm a hotshot business woman, uh. And bitch...bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch.

"...won't even watch the kids. You're irresponsible, unreliable…"

Watching the kids overwhelmed her most of all, especially Lulu and Lizy. Lizy always running around like a coke addict and Lulu was always doing weird X-Files shit. You want me to babysit her? What do I look like to you, Area 51? The normal ones are hard enough: Once, Mom left her in charge of Lacy, Liby, Lemy, and Leia (Lemy was, like, six), and by the end of the night, she was shaking...literally shaking...and the house was a disaster and she felt frozen. It was awful; she still dreamed about it sometimes.

Yeah, Mom, you're right, I am irresponsible, but I have a shit ton of phobias and anxiety issues; it's not like I do this for fun.

Did she care, though?

Nope.

All she cared about was Loan being a 'disappointment' and not 'living up to her expectations' and 'masturbating in front of her younger siblings' as though that was the worst thing ever. Oh, yuck, Loan has her hand down the front of her pants again. Pffft. Apparently sex is fine for public consumption around her unless it involved her. Ew, gross she's fingering herself to anime again! At least you don't see anything. But it's me, so, yeah, yuck.

Bunch of assholes.

And Mom was like that Aerosmith song Lyra liked: She just kept a'rollin'. "Piss, moan, bitch, wah-wah-wah, Loan you're terrible, Loan you're awful, you let me down, Loan."

She couldn't take it anymore.

She'd rather die.

Or find gainful employment.

"Fine," she said and dropped the game controller onto the floor, "I'll get a job."

* * *

Lizy sat at the kitchen table, her back ramrod straight and her hands folded in her lap. Across from her, Leia crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her expectantly, which made Lizy nervous. She darted her eyes away and drummed her fingers on her thigh. Leia's gaze didn't waver, and Lizy started to squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass. "Well?" Leia asked.

"Well what?"

Leia sighed. "You're supposed to be turning me on."

Huh? Oh, right. She had to be 'alluring' because that's what Lemy likes. Last night, Gwen, who was presently at the stove with Liena making spaghetti (yum) gave her a few pointers and now Leia wanted her to put them into action or something.

Propping her elbow on he table, she tilted her head to one side and threaded her fingers through her blonde hair. She completely blanked on what to say, so she put on her best I want to do grown up stuff with you look and batted her eyelashes. Leia lifted her brow. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked. She was playing Lemy and Lizy was playing Lizy. They were simulating a date because she had to learn how to do it or something, she wasn't exactly clear:When Leia was explaining her reasoning, Lemy passed by in the hall wearing just his boxers, and Lizy got distracted. And hot.

"I just wanted to spend time with you" she said now, doing her best to pretend that the girl across from her was really her brother, "it's been so long since we hung out."

Leia shrugged. "I guess."

"Maybe after dinner we can hang out...in another way."

Leia frowned. "Uh...I'm actually busy after dinner."

"Too busy to spend time with your little sister?" Lizy asked and pouted. She didn't know if it was cute or not, but it was certainly supposed to be. Gwen told her to play the 'little sis card' and to not give up no matter how much he resisted.

At the stove, Liena picked up a pot, carried it over to the sink, and poured the contents into a strainer in the sink.

"Yes," Leia said.

"Maybe I can help," Lizy said, and remembered to bat her eyelashes again. "I'm really good at...doing things," she faltered.

"I have to fix my radio," Leia said, "it's broken and won't play my dumb classic rock anymore."

Lizy twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "I can be your helper and…" she didn't know what to say. Gwen and Leia both said she had to be suggestive and a tease, but being a tease was hard because up until yesterday the only teasing she knew about was the mean kind. Leia was watching her, and Lizy started to chafe. "Uh..use my mouth on you."

The old girl rolled her eyes. "You're coming on too strong."

"I don't know what to say," Lizy moaned.

Leia sighed. "You have to be sexy."

"I don't know how."

Gwen came over and sat a plate heaped with spaghetti in front of her, and the smell found Lizy's nose, making her stomach rumble. "Being sexy isn't that important," she said and put her hand on the little girl's shoulder. "He likes feminine girls, so that's what you have to aim for."

"No, she needs to be sexy," Leia declared as Liena sat a plate before her. "That's what Lemy likes."

Lizy sighed and rested her face in her hands. "I'll never be sexy."

"Yes you will," Gwen said, "just keep trying."

She did keep trying, but nothing worked! She was the most unsexy girl ever. Picking up her fork, she swirled the tines in the spaghetti then lifted it to her lips. "Maybe we need a new approach," Liena said.

"No," Leia shot back, "we need this approach. Lemy is already against the idea of being with her so she needs to drive him out of his mind with lust. In order to do that, she needs to appeal to his biggest turn-on."

Gwen opened her mouth to reply but stopped because she knew Leia was right just as well as Lizy did.

"Now if you'll excuse us, we have training to do."

Gwen and Liena looked at each other, then left. Leia was the expert in these matters, after all.

When they were alone, Leia leaned over the table. "You pretend to be Lemy now and watch what I do."

Lizy nodded. "Okay."

Leia spun her fork, lifted it to her mouth, and wrapped her lips around it slowly, seductively, her eyes locking with Lizy's. The little girl couldn't help feeling like she was a gazelle and Leia a lioness. "Can I help with your radio, Lemy? Please?" the older girl asked with a needy inflection. "I promise to do whatever you say."

Okay, Liz, think like Lemy. Gwen said he loves you and you're his favorite sister, but he's just not into you 'like that'...yet. "No, it's okay," she said, trying to let 'Lizy' down easy. "It's super hard and you won't like it."

Leia giggled. "Hmmm. I love hard things."

Okay, that sounded suggestive but - oh, wait! It's a pun or something because boys' things get hard and she's saying she likes when that happens. I see now, yes.

"Uh...you won't like this. You'll think it's dumb or something."

Leia got up and came around the table, her fingers trailing along its surface and her hips rolling provocatively. Lizy's throat tightened and her heart began to race; in that moment, she knew what it felt like to be a small animal backed into a corner by something larger and more vicious.

When Leia sat in her lap, she winced at her weight. "But, Lemy," she said and ran her fingers through Lizy's hair, "I'm a really good helper." She leaned over and pressed their noses together; her breath puffed hotly against Lizy's lips, filled her mouth and her nostrils like cloying perfume. "I'll do anything you want," Leia said and brushed her lips against Lizy's, her pupils dilating. "Anything."

Lizy swallowed thickly and tried to dredge up a reply, but her mind was just as frozen as her body. She didn't like Leia like she did Lemy, but for some reason her body was responding: She was starting to leak and her flesh burned with fever. "T-This is wrong," she said, not entirely sure if she was speaking as Lemy, Lizy, or both.

"Hmmm, no it's not," Leia said. She slipped off Lizy's lap and got down on her knees, her hands going to Lizy's legs and making her jump. "It's right and you know you want it." She brushed her bottom lip with her teeth and leaned forward. "It's okay...I do too." She rocked backwards and stared at Lizy. "At this point, you take his dick out and put it in your mouth. Then you pump until he cums and drinks every last drop."

Lizy frowned. "How do you do that?"

"You don't know anything, do you?" Leia asked, a hint of annoyance in her tone.

Lizy shook her head.

Getting to her feet with a sigh, Leia put her hands on her hips and favored Lizy with a frustrated gaze. "I guess I'll teach you that too." She crossed her arms. "Get a cucumber from the pantry…"

* * *

My friend's got a girlfriend

Man, he hates that bitch

He tells me every day

He says "man I really gotta lose my chick

In the worst kind of way"

Loan shoved her hands deep into the hips pockets of her jeans and kicked an empty Pepsi can along the sidewalk. This is dumb. It's cold, windy, and everything's so...open. Of everyone in her family, she was the tallest - freakishly tall, even - but out here, with no walls and endless sky, she felt tiny, lost, and dreadfully exposed. Her heart slammed a sickly beat against her ribs and she kept her eyes pointed at her feet; even so, she was painfully aware of how vast the world was, and it made her so anxious she twitched like a tweaker.

And when she got anxious, she got mean.

She sits on her ass

He works his hands to the bone

To give her money every payday

But she wants more dinero just to stay at home

Well my friend

You gotta say

In the two hours she'd been wandering Royal Woods, she shoved a little boy out of the way, flipped off a guy on his lawnmower, and punted a one-eyed, no tail cat into a bush. She came across three places with help wanted signs in the windows, but two wanted previous experience and the third required a driver's licence. You're too goddamn picky, she told the lady behind the counter at the last one. Mama, this is a delivery service. Driving is literally the job. Humph.

I won't pay, I won't pay ya, no way

Why don't you get a job?

Say no way, say no way, no way

Why don't you get a job?

This is gay. I hate work.

Well I guess it ain't easy doing nothing at all

But hey man free rides just don't come along

Every day

But if I don't find a job I'm gonna have to listen to Mom's harping, and my nerves can't take that shit. I hope I find a job and have an epic breakdown and she feels like shit. Maybe if it's really good the police will taze me and I can sue. A sharp smile touched her thin lips. How's that for work, Mom? I'll make more in one day then you'll make in your entire life; I'll buy the house and then you'll all have to listen to me.

Heh. Heh. Heh.

Yeah, that would rule.

At an intersection, she waited for a car to pass and swallowed. She was starting to get thirsty. She had a five dollar bill and Flip's was ahead on the right - she'd pop in, grab a Monster, then return to the Bataan Death March I mean job hunt.

The pedwalk light changed to green and she hurried across as quickly as she could; she hated crossing busy streets with a passion.

A few minutes later, Flip's appeared from between a medical supply warehouse and a vacant lot. The sign looming over the street was missing letters (F IP ') and the plate glass windows in front were so grimey you could hardly see through them. She crossed the parking lot - littered with trash because of course - and reached the door, pausing when her eyes fell on the handwritten sign taped to it.

HELP WHANTED

She glared. You misspelled wanted, dumbass.

Pulling the handle, she went inside.

Flip's was your typical gas station/convenience store: Coolers along the back wall, isles of chips and cupcakes, cigarettes and condoms behind the counter. The tile floor was sticky and lined with cracks, the overhead fluorescent lights flickered and hummed, and the smell of hotdogs and pizza wafted from the warming cabinet next to the soda fountain. Flip, thin and sickly looking, leaned against the counter, his elbows propped on the edge and an issue of Hustler covering his face. "Ooooh, yeah," he said, "work it, honey."

She hated Flip, but not as much as she hated hearing her mother's crap. Taking a deep breath, she walked over with a sour expression on her face. Flip looked up, and his brows angled down in a V. "I didn't know they let you out of the house," he said.

Loan sneered. "Can I have a job?"

Flip snorted as if the idea of her working was laughable. Shut up, you don't know me, old man, she thought. "Sorry, honey, you need two sets of genes to work here."

Every time she came in here, he made fun of her for being inbred. He was probably jealous because no one wanted to fuck him. "I have two sets of genes," she grumbled.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

He seemed to consider a moment. "Have you ever mopped?"

"No."

"Cleaned a toilet?"

"No."

"Stocked shelves?"

"No."

He drew a deep breath and let it out through flaring nostrils. "I'd tell you to get lost, but I'm desperate. Tell you what, Deliverance, I'll start you right now at four dollars an hour. How's that sound?"

Loan blinked. "Minimum wage is -"

"Do you want the job or not?"

Fifteen minutes later, Loan stood in the middle of the store, a yellow, wheeled mop bucket at her left foot like a loyal pet and a name tag pinned to her sweater. Flip made it by hand. How kind. WRONG TURN, it said. Her fingers curled around the mop handle and she breathed deeply through her nose, each exhalation coming out as an angry hmmmmmm. Flip crossed his arms over his chest and stood in front of her, his head tilted back and his eyes dancing with malicious light. An ugly smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and the smug expression on his face made Loan feel two inches high.

This is humiliating.

"I want this floor to sparkle," he said. "Start by the beer cooler. There's a puddle." He nodded, and Loan followed his gaze. There was, indeed, something wet over there. "Don't worry, it's shallow. Like your gene pool." He cackled mad laughter and slapped his knee with a meaty thwack. Loan snarled but held her tongue: His jokes were better than Mom's griping. Turning away, she pushed the mop bucket over to the cooler, pulled the mop out, and slopped it against the floor with a wet plop.

Flip hobbled over and furrowed his brows. "Hey, hillbilly."

Loan tensed.

"You're supposed to wring it out first."

Wring it out? What the hell was he talking about? She stared blankly, and he huffed like a big, fat woman. Ambling over, he snatched the mop away and slapped the wet end into some kind of clamp thing, then pushed a lever. "Like this."

Muttering to herself, Loan watched, fantasizing about taking the handle and cramming it up his ass. When he was done, he handed it back. "There. Think you got it from here, The Hills Have Eyes?"

She grabbed the mop and turned away. She'd been an employee here less than half an hour and she was already thinking of walking out the door. The only thing stopping her was her mother. No, not the threat of her mother reaming her a new asshole, rather the threat of letting her down even more than she already had. She didn't show it often - because she couldn't - but she was indeed a person with feelings and emotions, and knowing that she disappointed her mother with every breath she took hurt like hell.

It was for that reason and that reason alone that she slapped the mop against the floor instead of across Flip's face. She drew it back and forth across the floor, starting with the stain and stepping back to hit the spot in which she was just standing. Flip watched from the sidelines with crossed arms, and not hitting him with a barb took so much self-control that Loan shook. Don't blow up, you need this job, don't blow up, you need this job…

Forty-five minutes later, she was done; her arms quivered with exhaustion and she panted for breath, but the floor was clean and sparkled under the lights. "There," she muttered to herself, sat the mop in the bucket, and leaned heavily against the counter, hands splayed and head bowed.

"You alright?" Flip asked from behind the register.

"Yeah," she said, "just tired."

The old man hummed. "Maybe if you had an extra chromosome you'd be okay." He slammed one hand against the counter and threw his head back in a mean-spirited laugh. That's not how it works, you stupid bastard, she thought and dug her nails into the countertop, pretending it was his eyes. "Christmas must be easy. Only one set of grandparents to buy for."

Yuk, yuk, yuk.

"Do you call your father Dad or Uncle Lincoln?"

He, he, he.

"Your family tree has one branch!"

A hot blush crept across the back of Loan's neck, and her teeth clenched together so hard her jaw ached. And still, kept going.

"Hey, Loud, why did the chicken cross the road? To fuck her brother!"

"If you have a kid with your old man, he'll be its father, grandfather, and great-uncle!"

"Least you won't have to change your name when you and your brother tie the knot!"

A hot ball of rage formed in Loan's chest and her hand balled into a fist. That's it, I'm gonna knock this bastard's teeth down his throat. Fuck him, fuck his job, fuck everything. She stood up to her full height, but before she could throw a punch, the bell over the door dinged. "Speak of the Devil," Flip said and brushed a tear from his eye. Loan turned to see Lemy crossing to the soda fountain; he was dressed in jeans, his military coat, and a black watch cap. He kept his gaze straight ahead, pointedly ignoring Flip.

"Half brother, full cousin," Flip commented. "What is it about him that turns you on, Loud? Is it knowing how screwed up riding his dick is? Or is it the family resemblance?"

Loan clenched and unclenched her fists. She didn't think she could take much more of this crap.

Across the store, Lemy grabbed a cup, held it under one of the fountains, and depressed the button.

Nothing happened.

He pressed it again, harder this time, and still, nada.

"Piece of shit," he growled and slammed it with the heel of his palm.

"Hey, Jethro! Break my soda machine and I'll break you."

Lemy glanced over, saw Loan, ane recoiled a little as if seeing her here, in public, was the most shocking thing ever. To be fair, it was: If Loan had her way she'd be home lost in a video game, where her only problems were running out of ammo or restarting a level, where the raging dumpster fire that was her life could be swept under a digital rug composed of ones and zeros. Instead, she was here with him, that fat old fuck who thought her being inbred was the spookiest meme ever (doot doot).

As soon as her shift was over, she was looking for another job...any job.

Settling for another selection, Lemy filled his cup, grabbed a straw and a lid from a dispenser, and came over to the counter. "What are you doing here?" he asked, then his eyes flicked to the name tag on her sweater. "Noooo," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a chessy I'm-a-baby-and-I-farted smile.

A smile that dropped a little. "Wrong Turn?" he asked and sat his cup on the counter.

"It's a movie, Loud," Flip said, "about inbreds. Just like you two."

Lemy shot him a dirty look and looked like he wanted to say something, but held himself back. "Five bucks," Flip said.

Digging in his pocket, Lemy pulled out a crumpled five and laid it on the counter. "I'm gonna ask you the same question I asked her," the old man said. "What about her turns you on? You see your Mama in her face?"

"Nothing about her turns me on," Lemy said quickly.

Loan's brows knitted angrily. Oh, so I'm not even good enough for the dweeb, huh? Dad's the only man who'll ever have you, Lupa said once. And half the time even he doesn't want you. They were arguing and Loan dismissed it as bullshit, but sometimes, as she lay awake at night struggling to quiet her demons long enough to fall asleep, she wondered.

"...doesn't make your pee pee stand up?" Flip was asking.

Lemy's nose crinkled. "No."

You're dirty, Loan; you're a slob, Loan; your feet stink and you literally need to get a job; you're a disappointment and I wish you were more like Liena.

I know I'm fucked up, okay? I know I'm not normal and I know I hide in my video games; I know I can't do anything without getting flustered and overwhelmed; I know I'm a slacker...but only because I screw up literally everything I try to do and disappoint my parents even more; I'm not dumb, I get it, but does everyone have to FUCKING RUB IT IN?

Strange, stinging wet shit welled in her eyes and she blinked it back.

"You're a goddamn liar, Loud," Flip said, "you wanna fuck your sister so bad I can see it in your eyes. You're like that guy from the meme, the one with the vein in his forehead."

Lemy gagged. "I'd rather stick my dick in a blender."

A strangled sob escaped Loan's throat, and, covering her face with her hands, she pushed away from the counter and flung herself toward the door. Flip and Lemy both looked after, Flip wincing when she shoved through and it slammed against the outside wall. For a moment neither spoke or moved, then Lemy spun to face the old man, his features hard. "What the fuck did you do to my sister?"

Flip looked stricken for a very, very very brief nanosecond...then his brow darkened. "I didn't do shit to her." There was a defensive edge in his voice.

"You were making fun of her," Lemy said.

Flip started to speak, but shrugged instead. "You were the one saying you didn't want her."

Lemy sighed and snatched his cup off the counter. "You're a fucking asshole." With that, he stalked out the door went after Loan.

* * *

Lizy stared nervously at the cucumber on the table before her: It was big, thick, and intimidating. "Add another two inches," Leia said, "and that's Lemy."

Oh.

Oh wow.

"Three more inches, and it's Dad."

The little girl's eyes widened. "Are they supposed to be that big?" She looked up at Leia, who stood by the table with her arms crossed. Gwen and Liena sat across from her, the latter frowning at the veggie and the former furrowing her brow. She knew Mr. Loud was big, but jeez, how could he fit it in anybody? Lemy was just over six inches, and that was enough to spread her walls and spear her cervix - which felt really good if he worked his way up to it and didn't just start pounding (she had to be nice and wet). Anything more and...shiver. A lot of girls at school made fun of boys with small penises, but frankly, she'd rather a small one than a monster one like Mr. Loud's - she would like to walk away, not roll away in a wheelchair. Then again, she didn't have to worry about a small one because Lemy's was anything but.

Ummmm.

She had to stop thinking about it or she'd start leaking into her panties

"No," Leia said, "the men in our family are hung. Lemy's normal size for a grown man but he has a lot of growing left to do." A closed-lipped smile ran across her face, and it was clear that she was looking forward to Lemy getting bigger. Why, Gwen didn't know, since she couldn't take her father. Then again, she was still growing as well. Gwen never said so out loud, but she was starting to suspect that Leia had a thing for Lemy. She was really flirtatious in general, but the way she looked at him, her eyes lingering and her teeth chewing her bottom lip, and the way she clung to him...yeah, she liked him.

Lizy looked from her sister to the vegetable and sucked her bottom lip fearfully in. "I know it looks a little scary," Gwen said, "but it's really not. Lemy…" she stopped and considered for a moment. "You love him and when you get there and actually see it...how beautiful it is...you won't be scared at all."

"Umhm," Leia said.

Liena tilted her head. "I don't think I've ever seen Lemy's thing."

"You're missing out," Leia and Gwen said in unison.

Sitting back in her chair, Liena let out a long, thoughtful hum. Interesting, it seemed to say, I should, like, totes check it out for myself. There's another one for ya, Freak. At this rate, the poor guy's dick was going to fall off.

Picking up the cucumber, Leia held it out to Lizy, who simply stared at it with trepidation. "You have to work on your technique."

Gulping, Lizy took it and examined it as though it were a strange and alien artefact. Leia produced a magazine from thin air and opened it. "Luckily, I have a subscription to Cosmo and they talk about nothing but sex. Seriously, they're worse than Penthouse." She licked her finger and flipped through the pages while Lizy grimaced nervously at the gord. "Aha," Leia said and folded the magazine, "How to Give the Perfect Blowjob by Abby Script. She's an expert. Kind of a slut, but an expert nonetheless."

Gwen lifted her brow. Oh? I seem to remember you blowing a guy in a dumb hat for money and drinking his cum like it was Sunny D.

Clearing her throat, Leia began to read:

"Blowjobs don't get the greatest depictions in the media, especially in porn. There's lots of mouth-fucking, forced gagging, and getting ejaculated on in demeaning ways. In real life, blowjobs can be an incredibly fun experience for the giver. Here's how to give a great blowjob and enjoy it at the same time."

Lizy turned the cucumber over in her hands and pursed her lips.

"On average, men take three to five minutes to orgasm, so you don't usually need to worry about finding a position that - dah da dah." She flipped to the next page and shook her head. "This woman is so long winded. Oh, here we go:

You can warm him up a bit by rubbing his dick over his underwear with your hand,

but try to get to work relatively quickly. Most men I've spoken with don't like an excessive amount of teasing. Some have said it even feels a little uncomfortable or ticklish. If you're going to tease, try slipping a tongue or finger beneath the waistband of his underwear before pulling them off, or holding his dick in your hand while you ask him what he wants you to do with it.

If he's not fully hard right after you take off his clothes, take advantage of the situation by taking his entire penis into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it while he grows bigger. It might be the only time you're able to get the full thing in your mouth, so have fun!"

Leia snorted. "Even when he's soft I can't get it all in."

"Me either,"Gwen said. "Well...I can but it makes me gag."

Lizy winced.

"If he's already erect, start at the base of his penis and make a few long, slow licks from the base to the tip. Keep your tongue broad and flat."

Liena's eyes lit up. "That's what I do to Dad! He, like, says I'm the best." She said this with glowing pride.

"Once you're ready to get down to business, you'll want to get his dick nice and wet and establish a good baseline technique. Slide your mouth up and down his penis a few times, keeping your tongue pressed against the underside of his dick. You want to try to maintain a tight seal with your mouth, without allowing any contact with your teeth. Try to gather up as much saliva as you can, and slowly let it fall out of your mouth as you traverse his dick. Don't worry about getting too sloppy at this point; the wetter the better!"

Flipping the page, Leia nodded. "Same thing when he goes down on you. His spit mixes with your girl cum and uhhh." She threw her head back and purred.

Lizy was paying attention now, her cheeks red and her breathing shallow; the cucumber trembled slightly in her hand and the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her quivering lips. Call Gwen a perv, but Lizy was really cute when she was turned on.

Humph. I said I was a little bi the other day, but I'm starting to think it's more than just a little.

"Once you've gotten him lubed up, use your hand and mouth in tandem. Most people's mouths aren't big enough to accommodate an average-sized penis, so your hand can help you get more coverage. Your can use your hand to stimulate the majority of the shaft, and your mouth to stimulate the head. The shaft tends to be the least-sensitive part of the male genitalia, so you can use more pressure than you might think. The head of the penis is much more fine-tuned to stimulation, so your warm, wet mouth will be gladly welcomed. Firmly wrap your dominant hand around the base of his penis, like you're giving it a good handshake. Bring your lips down to meet your hand. Pretend that your mouth and your fist are glued together, and move up and down his penis for a minute or two. This will be your standard move that you can return to at any point."

Lizy's blush burned deeper and she she squirmed in her seat, no doubt rubbing her legs together as she imagined her doing that to Lemy. Gwen felt the urge to get up, go to her, and eat her pussy until she came. I know it's kind of wrong, but the thought of giving the little girl her first real orgasm - of making her knees shake and sending tendrils of electric pleasure pulsing through her body - made Gwen hot, and now it was her turn to squirm.

Humming, Leia scanned the page. "This part is about playing with his balls, but he doesn't really like that. This part is about playing with his butt hole; he definiately doesn't like that." She flipped the page. "Oh, okay." She looked at Lizy over the top of the magazine. "Do you plan to spit or swallow?"

"Uh...spit or swallow what?"

"His cum," Leia said impatiently, "what else?"

The little girl looked to Gwen for guidance. "You could do either," Gwen offered hesitantly.

"What's...what's it like?"

Gwen had to think for a minute. "It's...it's thick...and warm...kind of like snot."

Lizy's nose crinkled in disgust.

"And salty. It doesn't taste the best, but it's not all that bad either. When I do it, the fact that I just made him cum and now I'm swallowing him really turns me on." She flashed a nervous smile. Leia nodded her agreement and idly flipped the page. "It's really intimate," Gwen continued, "and having, like, his essence in my mouth and on my tongue and in my stomach is so hot."

Lizy considered the matter for a moment, then grinned. "That does sound hot." Her eyes darted to the cucumber and her brow pinched cutely. "So...I just do what the magazine said?"

"Yes," Leia said.

Sighing apprehensively, Lizy held the gourd vertical in her hand and leaned tenatatively in. "Just imagine it's Lemy," Gwen said. "And show him how much you love him."

With a determined nod, Lizy closed her eyes, tilted her head forward, and pressed the tip of her tongue tentatively to 'Lemy's' shaft.

"Broad and flat," Leia reminded her.

"You can curl your tongue when you reach the top, though," Gwen added.

Lizy's eyes went from Leia to Gwen, then crossed when she looked directly at the vegetable. She licked slowly to the tip, then glanced at Leia for what to do. "Put your lips against the head, then go down."

Lizy molded her lips to 'Lemy's' tip.

"Watch your teeth," Gwen said, "you don't want to hurt him."

Closing her eyes, Lizy slid the cucumber into her mouth and her cheeks sank inward. She moved with agonizing slowness, her forehead wrinkling unpleasantly. When the head touched the back of her throat, she gagged and whipped her head away, the light filtering through the window shimmering on the gourd's spit-slicked length. She fisted her hand to her mouth and coughed and wretched, her tiny frame shaking. Leia sighed deeply and Liena frowned in concern.

When she had control of herself, Lizy turned back to the cucumber and glared. She couldn't walk in heels and she couldn't be suggestive like Leia, but, God help her, she was going to give Lemy the best blowjob ever...even if it killed her.

She wrapped her fingers around the veggie's base, brought it to her lips, then bobbed her head down, making sure to keep her tongue broad and flat, just like the magazine said. As she did this, she stroked her hand up and down the shaft. "Do what feels right," Gwen said, "don't push yourself."

What else did the magazine say? She closed her eyes and tried to remember. Something about a lot of spit and keeping your tongue against his underside. She worked up as much saliva as she could and pulled back so that it could dribble down the gourd's shaft. She curled her tongue a little and lashed the veggie with it, then bobbed her head down, purposely prodding the back of her throat. She felt the urge to gag, but she ignored it.

Drawing all the way back, she licked the tip then looked at Leia. "Is that okay?" she asked hopefully.

Leia hummed indecisively. "Well, obviously you have to keep going until he nuts."

"How long does that take?"

"Depends on how good you are," Leia replied. "And how turned on he is. I can make him cum in three minutes...whether he wants to or not." She took out her phone, swiped her finger across the screen, and looked up. "I'm going to time you. Three minutes."

Lizy nodded.

Leia jabbed the screen. "Go."

Lizy formed her lips to the cucumber's tip and pressed down, her tongue flat against its bottom; she pushed to her limit then back, then down again, working up excess saliva as she went. Some dripped down the vegetable's hilt and smeared against her hand, which reminded her to stroke. She flicked her eyes up to Gwen and Liena: The latter looked uncomfortable and the former was blushing while Leia watched with the cool appraisal of a master teacher.

Each time the cucumber poked the back of her throat, Lizy winced a little, but every time, it became easier, the urge to gag less pressing. Two minutes in, however, her jaw began to ache really bad, and she slackened her pace. "Work through the pain, honey," Gwen said.

Steeling herself, she picked up speed again, bobbing her head furiously and swishing her saliva around the veggie's body. Hot fingers of pain crept up the sides of her face and wormed their way into the middle of her brain, and she went faster still; tears sprang to her eyes and she squeezed them tight. She couldn't stop, she couldn't give up, she had...to...do...this...right.

"She's, like, really working it," Liena said appreciatively.

Her jaw was cramping now, the pain spreading and circling around her forehead like a clamp. More tears brimmed in her eyes and spilled down her cheek.

"Alright," Leia said.

Lizy pulled the cucumber out of her mouth and gasped for air. Ow, that really hurt.

When Lupa spoke behind her, everyone jumped. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching Lizy to suck dick," Leia said matter-of-factly.

Lupa hummed.

"She's really into Lemy, so we're helping her," Liena added.

"I know a thing or two about Lemy," Lupa said, "maybe -"

"Uh, have you slept with him?" Leia asked haughtily.

"No," Lupa said, "but -"

"Then you don't really know him," Leia said dismissively.

A dark shadow flickered across Lupa's face. "Yes I do," she said.

Leia rolled her eyes. "You don't know a man until you've pillow talked after having sex with him. You don't know Lemy and we don't need your help, sweetie."

Lupa opened her mouth as if to speak...then sighed, turned, and walked out.

"My jaw hurts," Lizy moaned and rubbed her cheeks.

Leia rolled her eyes. "You need to build your endurance. Do it again."

"But -"

"Again."

Sighing, Lizy did it again.

* * *

Lemy found his oldest sister two blocks away, sitting on the curb next to a fire hydrant with her face buried in her knees; she trembled slightly, and as he walked up, she uttered a choking sob that pierced his heart like shrapnel.

Seeing your sister cry is bound to fuck you up (unless you're stone cold), but this wasn't any sister, this was Loan, whom he didn't even think had tear ducts. The only emotions he'd ever seen from her were unamused, grumpy, and hair-pullingly overwhelmed. Sad? Eh, he guessed. Sobbing? Never.

As he stalked along the sidewalk after her, his rage at Fip turned to worry; if she was crying, something had to be seriously wrong. He knew that old fuck was making fun of her because that's how he got his sick jollies, but Loan wasn't the thin-skinned type. He thought. He really didn't know, but she seemed like it, ya know? Even despite her anxiety. Flip must have said some really fucked up shit to make her break down like that.

I oughta knock that son of a bitch on his fat ass.

Yeah, that sounded sweet, but right now finding Loan was more important.

Presently, he went over to her and reached out a tentative hand. "Hey," he said softly and touched her shoulder, "you alright?"

She pulled away. "Leave me alone," she said thickly.

Lemy weren't no bitch (okay, maybe a little), but Loan always kind of scared him. Not like damn, brah, I'm really scared, look at me shake but like...wary. That's the word. Jeez, I gotta stop smoking that pot, it's turning my mind to mush. He was wary of Loan the way one might be a large and unfamiliar dog: Is that thing gonna bite me? It looks like it's gonna bite me. Every instinct in his body told him to leave her alone and retreat to a safe distance. He was a stubborn little bastard, though, so instead he sat down between her and the hydrant and pulled his knees to his chest. Loan drew a deep, watery sigh and turned her head away from him.

What do I say? I'm not really the best at comforting people, especially if they're...ya know...Loan. Our relationship isn't the closest. Or close at all, really. We're virtually strangers when you get right down to it. She does her thing, I do mine, and we meet for dinner or pass in the hall like ships in the night. That's it.

Kind of sad when you think about it.

But anyway, I know her on a surface level, but not deep. I know Lyra and Lupa on a deeper level because we've talked, we've shared our thoughts and aspirations, and all that other gay shit. I even know Leia on a pretty deep level; she likes to cuddle and talk after we have sex, and we've had sex a lot, so we've talked a lot. Underneath that haughty I'm-so-much-better-than-you-plebs exterior, she's…

That's not important. Loan's messed up and I don't know what to do or what to say.

Sighing, he stared across the street at the facade of a little pink house and struggled to come up with something. "Really, what's wrong?" he finally asked.

"Nothing."

"No, it's something," he pressed. "Was it Flip? What was his bitch ass saying?"

Loan didn't reply.

"Whatever he said, just ignore him. He's, like, ninety and he's on his way out. Don't - "

"It wasn't Flip," she croaked, and Lemy turned to her. She faced away, her matted-blonde head resting on her folded arms. "Not entirely."

His mind flashed back to the things he said back at Flip's. I'd rather stick my dick in a blender and nothing about her turns me on. Did...did that offend her?

"W-Was it me?" he asked.

Loan didn't speak.

"It was, wasn't it?"

"A little," she said.

His stomach sank. "Look, I didn't mean it like that. I just...you're, you know…"

"It's fine," she said. "I'm an ugly loser and no one likes me. I get it."

Lemy furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? If Flip said -"

"He didn't," Loan said, "and he doesn't have to. I know what I am." She took a deep, shivery breath. "I'm a fucking mess and everything I do comes out wrong. Mom's disappointed in me, Dad's disappointed in me, and no matter how hard I try, I can't change." She broke down crying, her breath hitching and her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. "I can't change who I am," she moaned, "I can't."

In Lemy's admittedly limited experience, there are several types of crying. Loan's came from deep inside, like dark red blood oozing from a stomach wound. It was sharp, stinging, and miserable. Some unseen hand reached into Lemy's center, grabbed his guts in an icy grip, and ripped them the fuck out. Loan wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at them, her head bowed and her dirty hair obscuring her face.

Scooting closer, he laid his hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. She didn't try to pull away this time; she just sat there like a catatonic woman lost in the chambers of her own mind, her body tense and rigid under his touch. He tried to think of something to say but...she was kinda right. I mean...she is a mess. She has anxiety problems, depression, a sorta dickish attitude, she's a slob, she doesn't bathe the way she should, and she did nothing but play video games - pure escapism, probably.

Still, she's my sister and even though she's a stranger and kinda scares me, I love her.

"You don't need to change who you are," he said haltingly, his words sounding contrived to even him, "you're great."

Loan sighed. "No, I'm not. I'm a wreck." She wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm and sniffed deeply.

"No, you're not," Lemy said, "you're...I mean, yeah, you have issues, but we all do."

"Not like mine," Loan said. "It's like being crippled. Sometimes I care, but most times I just don't give a shit. No one else does, so why should I?" Her voice cracked and she hugged her knees tighter, rocking back and forth, back and forth. She was a tall girl and not exactly slender, but in that moment she looked small, fragile, like a baby bird alone on the ground with a broken wing. Something stirred in Lemy's chest, and moved him to put his arm around her shoulder. Maybe it was the natural male instinct to protect and nurture a woman or maybe it was something else; he didn't know, and he didn't care, he just pulled her close. She resisted at first, then allowed herself to be drawn to his chest.

The sweaty scent of her unwashed hair and her dirty clothes pinched his nostrils, but he ignored it and rested his head against the side of hers. For a long time neither of them spoke, one staring into space and hating herself and the other trying desperately to find a magic combination of words to ease her pain. "Dad and your mom aren't disappointed in you," he finally said, "they just...they want what's best for you and...you know...parents can be dickish about shit like that."

Loan sucked a deep breath and blew it out. "I disappoint them," she dissented, "especially my mom. She wouldn't harp on me the way she does if I didn't."

"She does that because she loves you," he said, "if she didn't, she'd ignore you. She thinks...I mean, you know how she is. She's...like...uptight and stuff."

He didn't want to say too much about Lori because, c'mon, you don't shit talk someone's mom like that, but in his opinion, she was overbearing, demanding, and kind of a half-hearted tiger mother. She rode Loan's ass, and, you know, she wasn't wrong to, but...apparently it made Loan think she was a loser and a fuck-up or something, and that's bullshit. He knew all too well how that felt, and he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy much less his sister.

"But she's right," Loan said flatly. She stared straight ahead, her face ashen and streaked with tears.

Lemy scrunched his lips in thought. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to tell her the whole truth either. Yeah, the truth sets you free, but it also hurts like a motherfucker, and Loan was hurting enough as it was. Finally, he compromised. "You have some...areas you can improve on, but, like I said, everyone does."

"What about you?" she asked, and turned her head, facing him full on for the first time. Her naturally icy blue eyes were pink rimmed and filled with unshed tears.

"Me?" he asked with a shocked chuckle. "I'm all fucked up."

"No you're not," she said and looked him up and down, "you're...normal. Kind of a dweeb, but that's it. You can walk outside and not start to feel panicky, you don't get so depressed you can't even summon the energy to take a shower, you don't...you don't sit there and hate yourself so much you wish you died in the womb." She met his gaze and held it, her eyes pooled with a dark intensity that shocked Lemy. In the brief moment before she turned away again, he saw deep wellsprings of simmering pain.

He knew she had problems, but he never suspected it was that bad.

"No, I'm not normal," he heard himself saying, "I'm screwed up. I really am. I'm...I'm better, but...before...I was isolated, you know? I felt like Dad didn't care about me because he spent all his time with you and everyone else. On my birthday, he comes through the door, grabs Lupa, and goes off to fuck her...and, you know, 'happy birthday, son,' over his shoulder like I was an afterthought."

His stomach clutched as he remembered the pain, the pain he buried deep and pretended wasn't there. "I know it sounds petty, but a lot of it had to do with sex. Everyone did it with Dad and, yeah, I was super horny - which makes sense now knowing about Lisa's little Chernobyl back in the day - and that had me really fucked up. I saw everyone else having it and I wanted it physically, but I wanted it emotionally too, you know? The connection...the-the bonding, but no one wanted me, and I felt like I wasn't good enough, like no one loved me."

He paused for a moment. "It sounds kind of dumb when I try to articulate it, but, suffice it to say, I was in a lot of pain and I was totally alone. And depressed. I still get depressed sometimes...and there's no reason, it just happens."

Loan nodded. "I feel like that. Alone."

"Yeah, but you have Dad. I didn't have anyone. No one I felt like I could talk to. I was, like, you know, guarded because I figured no one cared, so what point was there in saying anything?"

Loan didn't immediately reply. "I'm like that with Mom. She acts like she doesn't care about my problems, like it's a stubbed toe and I should just suck it up, and that makes me feel even worse, as though a stronger person, a better person, really could get a grip and I'm just too weak and pathetic to do it." She shook her head. "Maybe I am."

"No, you have serious stuff going on, and I think your mom just...maybe she just doesn't get it, or maybe she does and this is her trying to get you to overcome it."

"Well, it's not working," Loan said.

"You should talk to her, ma -"

Loan's head whipped around, and there was panic in her eyes. "N-No, I-I-I can't, I-I can't take the confrontation."

Say what? "You're always confronting people."

"No," she said, "I'm pushing them away."

Lemy blinked.

Her eyes darted down. "Plus...not with Mom. I'm...I'm ashamed, and being around her makes it worse." She blinked as if against tears and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

For a moment he hesitated...then cupped her cheek in his hand. She lifted her face, tears brimming over and spilling down her cheeks. Despite the anguish, despite her sallow skin, despite the smattering of whiteheads at her temples from not washing enough, she was beautiful, and Lemy felt a familiar stirring in his chest.

"You don't have anything to be ashamed of," he said and brushed his thumb across the ridge of her cheekbone, "you're great." He tilted his head to one side in acquiescence. "An acquired taste - and hard shelled - but great nonetheless."

Her eyes darted in an inverted triangle from his eyes to his mouth and back again, then the corners of her lips turned slightly up. "Thanks," she said. Their gazes met, and Lemy felt himself being drawn toward her as if by a magnant. Loan drew forward too, her head tilting to one side. The tips of their noses brushed, and then their lips touched. For a second they stared into each other's eyes, their breaths heavy and mingling, then Lemy flicked his tongue out and tasted her mouth. She hesitated, then gave into the moment and kissed him back, her hands going to his chest and her tongue swirling around his in a slow, clumsy waltz that quickly gained speed as they each found the other agreeable and their passions began to rise. Lemy slipped his fingers into her hair and stroked his other hand down the slope of her throat; her pulse pounded wildly under his thumb and his dick hardened in response to her body's excitement. She gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him closer, their teeth scraping but neither one caring. She ran her hands over his face and through his hair, and he ran his over hers. Their tongues lashed and flopped, saliva dribbled down their chins, their lips smooshed and worked, making obscene squelching sounds.

They pulled slowly apart, a long ribbon of drool connecting them. Both panted, both trembled. Loan's eyes were different now, like Lemy had never seen them: They were soft, hazy, and dark like a forbidden chest of wonders. Their tongues both hung from their mouths, and as Lemy drifted back, she licked his and giggled. It was a sound he was not accustomed to, beautiful on its own but more beautiful because of it rarity.

"I was going to go back to work," she said, "but fuck that. Let's go home."

Before he could reply, she grabbed his hand, dragged him to his feet, and weaved her fingers through his. He was vaguely aware of the boner pushing out the front of his jeans as she led him home and felt a rush of shame that evaporated when he caught sight of the dark patch between her legs.

Everyone who passed them on the way knew exactly where they were going and exactly what they were going to do, and for some reason, that made it even hotter.

Guess I'm an exhabitionist, too, Lemy thought.

Make another notch on the Bedpost of Fetishes.

Grinning to himself, he slipped his arm around Loan's hips, and she looked down at him with a soft smile that made her face absolutely radiant.

Secretly, he always wondered what Dad saw in her…

But now...now he didn't.


	9. What She Needs

**Lyrics to You're Not Alone by Twisted Sister (1983)**

"My jaw really hurts," Lizy said, "can I please stop?" There was a beseeching quality to her voice that hurt Gwen's heart; she turned to her friend and started to intercede on her behalf, but Leia simply shook her head.

She, Leia, and Lizy (Liena left) were sitting at the kitchen table, joined now by Lyra who, like Lupa, walked in on the strange gathering- unlike Lupa, however, she was invited (by Leia) to stay, since she had actually slept with Lemy. Gwen wasn't exactly happy that Lyra took the offer - she didn't dislike Lyra, but she couldn't help seeing her as competition. She was, after all, the girl Lemy loved before meeting her. Heck, even after meeting her. He admitted to still having feelings for her, but said they were muted. She knew she wasn't being reasonable - she was totally fine with Lizy and even Leia loving Lemy and him loving them back (as long as he loved her too and didn't push her aside) - but, eh, old habits die hard, I guess. Or something.

Lizy sighed deeply and threw her head back. "Why?" she moaned.

"You need to hit ten minutes," Leia said unequivocally. "You're at six."

"He doesn't last that long," Gwen said, "especially if you make lots of eye contact with him."

Leia sighed and rolled her eyes. "You obviously don't get it, Gwen. He's not into Lizy the way he is us, so she has to work twice as hard, and chances are, it will take him longer with her. He'll need to get used to the idea."

Next to Leia, Lyra, sitting back in her chair with her arms folded over her chest, nodded. "She's probably right. If he's that messed up over it, ya know, it's gonna take a little extra to get him warmed up."

Well...she couldn't argue with that. Lemy wasn't exactly enamored with the idea of being with Lizy; to him she was his baby sister and nothing else. They were close and always had been, and from some of the things he'd said since she met him, Gwen got the strong impression that he felt more than a litte paternalistic toward her, and we all know how he feels about father-daughter sex. I just don't know how he does it, he told her once in bed, in reference to his father. I mean...how can he set aside the memories of watching them walk for the first time? O-Of changing their diapers and holding them when they were babies and tucking them in and shit? Unfortunately for Lizy, Lemy had done all of those things with her, so, yeah, for all intents and purposes she kind of was like his daughter.

Gwen didn't know much about boys in general - Lemy was her first in everything - but it's common knowledge that they have a way of thinking with their dicks sometimes. Lemy was a little more complex than the average man, but he was a man, so it was possible that he'd forget (or overlook) his relationship with Lizy once she turned on the charm (i.e., took him into her mouth). Then again, he might not, and Gwen's heart broke for the little girl, because being rejected by the boy you love is the worst feeling in the world, like being gutted and having broken glass and razor blades shoved into your gaping chest cavity. She knew that firsthand: For the first couple weeks of hers and Lemy's relationship, he wasn't into her...and she knew it, knew it like one would know a knife twisting in their heart. He fell for her, but for a long time after, she wasn't sure if it was real or not, and that hurt so bad that just the memory of it darkened her mood.

I know you didn't like me at first, she told him once, when did you start?

They were lying in bed, Gwen facing the wall and nestled safely in Lemy's arms. They just finished having sex and were both drowsing, the warm, comfortable sensation of his seed drying on the insides of her thighs lulling her like a child's blankie. She was almost asleep when the question occurred to her; she would have ignored it and drifted off, but she found herself suddenly wanting to know.

That day you kicked Juicy's ass, he said instantly. And we went to the park and the ice cream place.

Did you? She asked and turned in his arms

He nodded. By the end of the day I was totally in love with you. Head over heels like a girl.

That made her smile real big because she was trying to make him fall in love with her that day. Well...kind of. She didn't have a dastardly plan or anything, but...yeah...she was trying. Pathetic, huh?

I'm a clingy wreck, she thought after that. She often wondered if she was too desperate or something - letting him have sex with his sisters and aunts and basically saying it's fine...you can do whatever you want as long as you don't stop loving me.

She didn't think so - she genuinely liked to watch and she also...ahem...liked participating - but maybe she was.

And that bothered her.

Like now, for instance; she was helping another girl prepare to have sex with her boyfriend. When you took a step back and really looked at it...she totally looked like a cuck.

But on the other hand, Mr. Loud let Lemy have sex with not one girl he loved...or two...or even five...but ten. As far as she knew. Lemy hadn't been with all of his aunts - Lily was away at college but came back on holidays and he hadn't been with Lori or his mom - but from what he'd told her (and he was very open about these things) his father never sat him down and said you can do all of them but X...I love her.

She didn't know, and if she thought about it too hard she'd start to feel bad. She didn't mind sharing, honestly, it was...it was more her and not him. Like...would she be able to draw a line with him? If he did something she flat out did not like, could she stand firm...or would she roll over and let him have his way? She didn't want to be a weak willed doormat. Maybe she should assert herself about something.

"...die," Lizy was saying. She slumped her shoulders and fixed Leia with a pleading stare.

"You're not going to die," Leia said, "now put that cucumber back in your mouth and suck it like it owes you money." Her head bobbed sassily from side to side as she spoke, reminding Gwen of black girls she'd seen on TV.

Did that sound racist? She totally didn't mean it that way! She just...ya know…

Nevermind.

Lizy pouted, snatched the cucumber off the table, and wrapped her lips around it once more. "I remember my first blowjob," Lyra said with a nostalgic smile. "I was seven and when I saw it I fucking fell out, man." She laughed and shook her head. "I couldn't take it all the way; wound up sucking on the head."

Seven? Gwen shouldn't have been surprised, but for some reason she was. "How old were you when you first had sex with him?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Nine," she said.

Leia's eye twitched.

"It hurt like hell at first," Lyra continued, "but I wanted it bad." She drew a dreamy sigh. "After a few minutes, though, it felt really good."

Nine wasn't too young, Gwen guessed. She was barely eleven when she lost her virginity to Lemy.

Lizy was still going down on the cucumber when Lacy came in a few minutes later, a soccer ball spinning on her index finger. She wore an orange T-shirt and a pair of denim shorts; her eyes were closed and her lips arranged in a tiny smile. She opened them, saw what Lizy was doing, and faltered; the ball dropped, hit the floor, and rolled away. Yeah, it's not every day you walk in on a six-year-old girl fellating a phallus shaped vegetable. "Uh...what's going on?" she asked and looked at Gwen.

"We're teaching little mama to play the skin flute," Lyra said.

The jock's eyes clouded with confusion,,,then cleared when understanding dawned on her. "Oh." She frowned for a moment, then brightened. "Liby does this -"

"We know Liby does this thing with her tongue," Leia snapped and slapped the table, making Gwen jump. "Lemy won't shut up about it, Gwen won't shut up about it, Dad won't shut up about it…" she threw up her hands and grrrrr-ed. Lizy chose that moment to slow her pace, and Leia flipped. "Really? Really, Lizy?"

Lizy cringed and pulled the cucumber out of her mouth. Before she could speak, however, Leia made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. "That wasn't even five minutes. You're getting worse, not better. You need to work through the pain; if you stop in the middle of sucking him because my poor widdle jaw hurts, he's going to go soft then send you away and come to me or Gwen to..do..it...right." She pounded the table for emphasis and leaned into Lizy's face as she spoke, her voice rising on the last four words.

Gwen blinked. Wow. Harsh.

Lizy stared at the older girl for a moment, then her lips began to quiver and her face screwed up; tears filled her brown eyes and spilled down her cheeks in rivulets. She bowed her head and began crying in earnest, her shoulders shaking and her breath hitching.

"What the fuck?" Lyra demanded angrily.

Lacy glared at Leia. "You're a little bitch," she said and went to Lizy's side; she dropped to one knee and laid her hand on the little girl's leg.

"I'm trying to help her," Leia said and crossed her arms defensively.

"By making her fucking cry?" Lyra yelled. Gwen's heart started to race and she sat up in her chair, ready to flee at a moment's notice.

"Tough love," Leia said tightly.

Lyra sneered. "Sometimes, Leia, I don't think you know what love is."

The younger girl's face fell...then clinched in indignation. "Fuck you," she said, pushed away from the table, and sprang to her feet. "Go get fucked by Dad." Hands balled at her sides, pigtails bouncing testily, she stormed out of the room and disappeared. Lyra looked after her, then shook her head. Lacy stroked Lizy's hair and shushed her.

"Don't listen to Leia," Lyra said, "she's a female asshole." She leaned forward and reached across the table. Lizy looked up and the expression on her face stuck Gwen's stomach like a blade: Her cheeks were beet red and streaked; her eyes shimmered wetly; and her bottom lip was sucked firmly into her mouth. With what they were doing - teaching her how to give a blowjob - and how she, Lizy, felt for Lemy, it was easy to forget that she was just a little girl, but in that moment, she was so clearly a child that Gwen felt a rush of disgust and self-loathing. God, she's only six! What were they doing? Teaching a kid to 'suck dick.' It's awful!

She flashed back to the other night, sitting on the couch and fantasizing about guiding the little blonde's hand over Lemy's body and French kissing her slowly, softly, tasting and exploring the inside of her mouth. The back of her neck burned with shame, but her center burned with something else...something stronger.

Lyra was kneeling on Lizy's other side now and rubbing her back, concern written across her freckled face. Lacy ran her fingers through Lizy's hair and frowned; she looked like she was going to start crying too.

Sniffing deeply, Lizy wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm. A pang of sympathy rippled through Gwen's stomach and she sighed. Maybe they were going too far with this training stuff.

Or maybe they were going in the wrong direction. When Gwen said that Lizy needed to get Lemy's attention as a girl and not his sister, she didn't mean that she had to dress up like Leia and learn to take a nine inch cucumber to the hilt; she meant that she had to show him what a beautiful and loving little girl she was.

"Honey," Gwen said, and Lizy looked at her, "you don't...you don't have do all this. You don't have to be a porn star to get Lemy to like you. You're amazing the way you are, you just need to...you need to make him realize that you're more than just his little sister."

"But how?" Lizy moaned.

Gwen didn't know, but she had a vague idea. "We'll worry about that later," she said, her eyes darting to the cucumber. "You've done enough for right now. Take a break."

"We can play a game," Lacy offered. She looked around, spotted the ball, and grinned.

Lizy sighed. "No," she said heavily.

Lacy's brow crinkled. "Why not? You love soccer."

"Yeah," Lizy said, "but soccer isn't girly." She gave the last word a bitter, sarcastic twist.

For a moment Lacy stared at her. "Uh, no, not really." She leaned in and smirked. "But it's fun."

Lizy shrugged and stared at her lap.

"You know you wanna play," Lacy said in a singsong voice.

Lizy grunted.

Lacy and Lyra exchanged a knowing glance...then Lacy clawed her fingers and dug them into Lizy's stomach. The little girl jumped and cried out, her hands flying up. Lyra chuckled and joined in, attacking her side. Lizy shrieked laughter. "Stop! You're gonna make me pee!"

"Not until you play soccer with me," Lacy said.

Lizy thrashed from side to side and kicked her legs. "Okay! Okay! I'll play with you!"

Lacy immediately stopped and got to her feet. "Alright, let's go." She went over to the ball, stooped down, and picked it up, then started toward the back door. "You coming, Gwen?"

Gwen shook her head and got up. "No," she said, "I better go see about Leia."

While Lyra, Lizy, and Lacy went out the back door, Gwen went into the living room. At the couch, she paused - then jumped when Lupa spoke. "She went outside."

"T-Thanks," Gwen said.

"No problem."

Gwen hesitated, then went through the front door.

When she was gone, Lupa turned back to the darkened TV screen; her black shadowed eyelids creaked to slits and her forehead creased thoughtfully. You don't really know him, Leia said in that snotty little tone of hers - the one that practically begged you to grab her by her pigtails and fling her across the room. You never know a man until you've pillow talked after having sex with him. Bullshit. Leia was as superficial as they come - she didn't know or care about anything beyond his dick. She, on the other hand, knew Lemy on a more profound level. What could Leia tell you about him? Oh, he's a good fuck. Lupa could tell you lots of things about him - his thoughts, his feelings, his opinions. Like her, he was more complex than you might think at first glance. Leia didn't know shit.

Pffft. She knew him far better than that little tramp, far better than anyone except maybe Gwen and possibly Lyra.

Still...why did Leia's words cut so deep?

You don't really know him.

That wasn't true, she knew him plenty. Granted, they hadn't spent much one-on-one time together recently because he was always with Gwen and Lupa had her own stuff going on, but there was a time when they hung out a lot; he'd sit on her back with his back against the wall and watch her draw, then they'd talk about life, thoughts, feelings- it was nice and sometimes she kind of missed it, because out of all her siblings, she had the most in common with him. She felt like she could talk to him and he'd understand. Couldn't do that with Liena, or Leia, or Lacy...or Loan.

She felt a strange twinge in her stomach at the thought of her oldest sister. Five minutes ago, if that - right before Leia stormed out the door, Loan and Lemy came in; Loan held his hand and looked back at him with a bright, happy smile as she led him up the steps, a smile that Lupa had only ever seen her give to Dad.

Didn't take Dr. Ruth to know what they were up to, and knowing that even now they were up in her room having sex- knowing each other in fullest, deepest, and most intimate way two people could know each other - made her feel...something; something she couldn't name, or wouldn't name.

Maybe...maybe Leia was right.

Maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought. He had changed a lot over the past few months. He seemed...more at ease? Not as wound up? She wasn't sure, but she was sure of one thing: He was happier.

She scrunched her lips to the side in consideration. Yeah, now that she thought about it, he was happier. Hm. It was one of those things that happen over time and not all at once, so unless you're studying it really closely, you miss it, like your hair slowly going gray: One day you wake up, look in the mirror, and holy shit, I'm old. She loved her brother and sisters - yes, even Leia and Loan - but she couldn't burden herself with the minutia of their lives. No one can, right? No matter how close you are to someone, it's impossible to know every little detail, to seek out and categorize every slight change...just as impossible as accounting for every snowflake falling from the sky.

She knew that, but for some reason, she felt kind of...bad.

Sighing, she flicked her eyes to the ceiling. Loan's bedroom was literally above her head; she didn't hear anything, but she knew they were up there nevertheless...getting to know each other. That was one of the euphemisms for sex, comes from the Bible. Uzaih knew Euriah. It really was fitting when you got right down to it; putting your dick in someone (or letting them put their dick in you) is the ultimate form of knowing them; becoming one and seeing them like no one else has ever, or will ever, see them (at least that's the point...ya know...only doing it with your spouse after marriage).

That was all romanticized bullshit, of course. Oh, one flesh, one heartbeat...gross, sounded like a Danielle Steel novel.

Even so...wasn't it at least a little true? The bond she shared with her father was stronger than any other, she felt more tenderly toward him than she did her mother, aunts, sisters, and brother, she had a deeper connection with him: She'd looked into his eyes as he came, held his hand as he unraveled and pumped her full of his seed. Kind of hard not to feel a special something for a man (or woman) you've been with.

You know what? I'm overthinking this. I just need to hang out with him more.

And Gwen.

She'd been thinking a lot about what he said the other day, and he was right about her being an asshole. She didn't try to make Gwen uncomfortable or intimidate her, she just did her as the homies say. Why would she change for her brother's girlfriend? Even when Dad said treat her like she's family, she didn't do anything different. Okay, fine, I'll treat her like Loan or Leia - be polite when I have to be but not shove my nose up her ass and pretend to be sugary sweet. Oh, hi, honey, I love your hair. Now, if she saw someone fucking with her - like a group of girls messing with her and trying to beat her up - she'd step in the way she would for Leia - even though Leia would probably deserve the ass whipping. She just...I dunno...she wasn't going to treat Gwen better because why?

Then Lemy laid it all out and she genuinely felt bad. She knew Gwen had problems at home (she wouldn't be living here if she didn't), but she didn't know she was verbally and emotionally abused, and she never really stopped to think about how she must feel living in someone else's home the way she was. She told her father I'm not giving her special treatment, but knowing her situation and feelings better...she could stand to be a little more friendly. It's not like it would kill her.

Heaving another sigh, she got to her feet, absently smoothed the wrinkles out of her black and yellow skirt, and climbed the stairs, her hand trailing on the bannister and her eyes going to a piece of pink fabric balled on one the treads. She eyed it as she passed; underwear. Didn't look like Loan's - too girly (and small). Or did Loan even wear underwear?

She sneered in disgust.

Probably Leia's.

And speaking of Leia, what was her deal? When she sulked through, her face was red and her jaw was clenched. She looked pissed...not that that was rare (she was always getting a hair across her ass over something petty). Someone probably told her her outfit was "cute" instead of "stunning".

Lupa cracked a sardonic grin. From what Dad said, Lola used to be the same way - all stuck up and high and mighty and shit. She mellowed with age, Dad said with a hazy smile, like fine wine.

Yuck, but okay, yeah, Lola was okay, if a little too pink and prissy for her tastes. Hopefully Leia followed suit, because God that girl was such a snooty little thing. It was really Lola's fault. She wanted her to have the best so she spoiled the shit out of her and sent her to a private school, which Leia thought made her better than everyone else. Lupa couldn't stand people like that. In fact, she thought Gwen would be the same way, but as far as she could tell she wasn't. She was really quiet.

Hm. She'd have to contrive to spend some time with her. How, though? She didn't know the first thing about Gwen (which is why she was doing this, duh): If she wanted to do something Gwen liked...what the hell would that be? The only things she could think of were things Leia liked - the mall, uh...Jewing people out of money...being haughty? Yeah, she didn't know Leia very well either, she supposed. There wasn't much to know because Leia was shallow, but even shallow people have some depth.

At the head of the stairs, her step faltered. She didn't really know any of her siblings beyond the surface. Like Liby. She looked like a geek with that headgear and the skirt, but she wasn't, and while Lupa wasn't the type who shocked easy, she was fucking floored when she found out her older sister wasn't some Scooby-Doo wannabe but a certified badass. She honestly didn't think Lib had it in her.

I should bond with them better, she thought...all of them.

She considered for a moment, then nodded to herself.

At her room, she paused and glanced at Loan's closed door. She still couldn't hear anything. Not that she was listening.

Because she wasn't.

Why would she be?

* * *

Lemy shoved his hands into Loan's hair and kissed her deeply, their tongues grappling for dominance and hers winning. Just this once, though, Lemy was happy to lose.

They were kneeling on her bed in a bar of warm sunshine, Lemy's chest bare and Loan's sweater bunched up around her breasts to reveal her pale stomach; Lemy was going for her bra but felt the urge to hold her face in his hands. Remember, dude, I like bitch sex. He grazed his nails across her scalp and she danced her trembling fingertips down his chest, her tongue pushing further into his mouth as if she needed the kiss to be as deep, as total and intimate, as possible. Call it fag's intiution or Spidey Senses (Sexy Senses?), but Lemy knew what Loan needed - he needed the same thing once upon a time; affection, tenderness...and to know that she was loved.

Her fingers reached his stomach and hooked into the waistband of his jeans, dragging him closer and upsetting her balance; she spilled back onto the bed and brought Lemy with her, the kiss never breaking. Getting his knees under him and caging her between his legs, he pulled away from her lips and kissed her chin, her jaw, his hands stroking up her soft hips and over her stomach. She threw her head back and purred; he kissed her throat and her collarbone, his finger slipping under the elastic of her bra and finding the warm globes of her breasts. He pushed her bra up and they came free, her nipples erect and pink and her creamy flesh jiggling with every beat of her racing heart.

For a moment he simply stared at them.

He'd never given much thought to what Loan's tits looked like, but when when did ponder the matter (hunched over with his fist to his chin like Rodin's The Thinker), he imagined them being ugly. They weren't. If he'd been pressed to describe them, he'd have used the word 'exquisite.' They were full, round, and firm, her nipples like sculpted works of art. Holy shit.

Loan looked at him with a flicker of apprehension. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said and bent; he locked his eyes with hers and held her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. His lips hovered inches above hers; she breathed out and he breathed in, her warm breath sweet like aged wine. "You're beautiful."

Her eyes lit up and she smiled. "Thank you," she said awkwardly; there was genuine gratitude in her voice. Lemy stared into her eyes and moved her bangs from her forehead, then planted a soft kiss above her left brow; her skin was salty and damp with sweat that tingled against his lips as he trailed them down the side of her face and over her jawline. Her fingers curled into his chest and her breathing became ragged with desire. I wanna make this good for her...I wanna give her what I needed all those months ago…

He kissed one of her nipples and looked up at her; she watched with red cheeks and shivered when he flicked it with his tongue. The lust in her eyes and the look of rapture on her face fanned the flames of his own arousal and his boner ached against the seam of his jeans. Does it make me a bitch to be turned on by turning on a woman? Like...when a dude says he'd rather give than receive, he sounds kinda like a cuck, right? I'm in it for your pleasure and your pleasure only, baby. Cuck or not, man, that's what I'm into...and Loan being down and needing someone to cradle her...being there for her and making her feel good (in every way I can)...that's a real fucking turn on.

Still staring into Loan's narrowed eyes, Lemy wrapped his lips around her nipple and drew it into his mouth. Reaching out, he took the other breast in his hand and kneaded it softly, his thumb scraping her nub. "You're beautiful, Loan," he said and delicately kissed her breast. "You're not perfect." He kissed the warm, soft flesh just above her belly button; her stomach quivered and her breath caught with a hiss. "But I love you anyway." He trailed kisses down her navel to the waistband of her jeans and ran his hands over her hips, the soft caress of her skin against his raking the embers of his lust. Loan uttered a breathy sigh and arched her back. He could already smell her through the fabric of her pants, a dank, feral scent with a sour, sweaty edge that pinched his nostrils. His nose crinkled...but Shocky jerked like a rabid Rottweiler against a leash.

Grabbing either leg of her pants, he dragged them slowly down to the tops of her thighs, stopping when he caught sight of her crotch.

It was hairy - a tangled, matted mass of curly blonde like a fucking jungle: It started just below her waist and covered her lips, extending to the insides of her thigh.

Oh.

He couldn't lie, that gave him pause. He knew some women had bushes, of course, but all of the women he'd been with were clean shaven (except for Lynn, she had a landing strip). He wasn't much for eating hair, but after only the briefest hesitation, he decided he was going to anyway; he wanted to show Loan how much he loved her, and what better way to do that than to put his face in her crotch?

Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pants, he pulled them down her legs and over her ankles, then tossed them away; she drew her legs into an M and stared at him with a vulnerable doe-in-the-headlights expression that Lemy had never seen on her face before. I'm emotionally fragile, it seemed to say, please be gentle.

Lemy ran his hand over her stomach, dipped his head, and kissed the spot just above her slit; hair bristled against his lips, but he didn't care. "You're not alone, Loan," he said, and kissed lower, her sickly heat breaking over his face and her smell filling his noise, making him dizzy. "I love you and I care about you. I'm sorry I didn't show you that sooner." He darted his tongue out and curled it against her clit; she sucked a deep breath and shifted her hips. He laid his palms flat on her stomach, and she threaded her fingers through his and squeezed, that one simple gesture communication so much affection, so much need.

He squeezed back and licked her slowly, his tongue swirling around her clit and sampling her moist, coppery taste. Every girl has their own flavor - some are sweeter than others, some more bitter. Loan's was astringent and slightly sour. It sounds bad, brah, I know, but it's not. He wrapped his lips around the bud of her flower and sucked it into his mouth much the same way he had her nipple. She gasped and bucked against his face, a long moan trembling from her throat. He nibbled and rolled it between his lips, flicked it with the tip of his tongue, and let his spit dribble over it. Her breathing was quick, shallow, her bare breasts rising and falling and her head tilting back. Lemy stared up at her face as he made love to her with his tongue; her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted, the sunlight sparkling on them and setting her golden hair aflame.

In that moment, he beauty was heart-stopping.

How come he'd never noticed her before? He'd seen her a million times in his life yet had no idea that underneath the scowl and perpetually-knitted-brows hid an angel more beautiful than her mother, equal, in her own way, to Lola, who he held as the gold standard among his family.

Talk about glaring oversights.

Lying on his stomach between her legs, his tongue hungily lapping her clit and his eyes drinking in her captivating countenene, Lemy felt himself beginning to slip like a man on a hillside. He squeezed her hands tighter and dragged tongue down the center of her folds, collecting her juices and pulling them into his mouth like a kitten lapping milk. He reached her seeping core and traced the rim of her opening, his own breathing coming faster when she began to pant and shake. "That feels so good," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He lifted his eyes and studied her face; she blushed furiously, her chin jutted out, her teeth clamped her bottom lip. He ghosted his lips up along her center, then licked her clit again; her brow furrowed and she hummed. He did it again, and her mouth dropped open. Man, something about seeing pleasure on a woman's face was addictive, intoxicating.

Taking her between his lips again, he pulled one hand away from her grasp and traced his finger down between her swollen lips; at her entrance, he slid it carefully in and winced at how fucking hot she was, like bubbling tar in a simmering cauldron. He added a second finger and explored her insides, seeking and finding her G-spot, a rough patch of nerves that, when stimulated, sends a girl into the fucking stratosphere. Not a lot of dudes can find it, but Lemy could - he had a little sister named Leia who didn't mind him practicing and exploring on her. ;)

He curled his fingers in a come hither gesture and Loan moaned and bucked her hips. He pressed firmly and stroked it while lashing her clit with his tongue; a shudder raced through her body, and suddenly his face was in her hands. "Fuck me," she panted; her eyes, veiled by her sweaty bangs, were hazy and unfocused,

Getting to his knees, he unzipped his pants, reached in, and pulled out his dick; Loan watched, her breasts rising and falling and her lips parted. When she saw it, the corners of her mouth turned sharply up. "Ooooh, you're big," she said.

"I guess," he said humbly. He slid his pants down and pulled out one leg at a time. Naked now, he positioned himself at her opening and planted his arms on either side of her head. She stared up into his eyes, then brushed her hand across his cheek; he leaned into her touch, turned his head, and kissed her wrist.

"I love you," he said.

She smiled. "I love you too."

He drew his hips back and then slid them forward, his dick sinking into her like a sword into a scabbard; her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head back, baring her throat. He leaned over and kissed it as he drew back. When he was almost out, he thrusted, his body coming flush against hers. He kissed the underside of her chin, her throbbing pulse, his breathing coming heavier as his passion began to consume him. Their lips met, and they kissed deeply; she took his face in her hands and he slipped his fingers into her hair; back, then forward, back, then forward in long, slow strokes. She broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his, and he kissed it lovingly. She reached for his hand, took it, and weaved their fingers together. He squeezed and kissed her temple. "I love you," he repeated, his voice husky. He was already too close for comfort, and his orgasm inched forward with each press of his pubic mound against hers.

"I-I love you too."

Faster now, their bodies slapping together and friction building, crackling, pushing them closer to the point of no return; she lifted into every one of his thrusts, her hand squeezing his tighter and tighter - she was swiftly approaching her own end, for which Lemy was thankful; he couldn't hold back much longer.

"A-Are you close?" she panted.

"Yes," he replied.

"Cum with me."

That little bit of urging was all he needed; hot lead welled up from his core and there was nothing he could do to stop it even if he wanted to. He clutched her hand and stared into her eyes as it came rushing up; he thrusted deep and let himself go, his load bursting from him and shooting deep into Loan. Both cried out, both shook, both crushed the other's hand to keep from being swept away on crashing tides of ecstasy, but it was too late, and for a long time after their climax, they lay in a panting heap, their fingers still twined and their hearts beating against one another in pounding rhythm.

Lemy shifted off and curled up next to her, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her close. For a moment she stared up at the ceiling, her breasts lifting and falling, then she started to cry.

* * *

Gwen found Leia sitting on the top step, her elbows propped on her knees and her face resting in her upturned palms; a faint breeze rustled her pigtails and blew waves across the fabric of her sweater vest. Gwen hesitated, one hand resting on the doorframe, then went and sat next to her. Leia's eyes were leaden and gray, and her mouth was a tight, white slash; she made no sign that she was aware of Gwen's advent.

Four years...that's how long Gwen had known the Loud girl. That's, like, forever...certainly long enough to know a person, and Gwen could tell that something was bothering her friend, something beyond her sisters calling her a bitch. Gwen crossed her arms in her lap and turned to Leia. "You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Leia nodded. "I'm fine," she said. Her voice was flat and without conviction. No, she wasn't fine - that was as clear as the two dogs humping on the other side of the street (wow, that pom is really going). Gwen frowned and looked away, at a loss for what to do. She didn't know how to help people with their problems - she had so many of her own - and she didn't want to press because she was afraid Leia would get mad and yell at her. Then again, she really didn't like seeing someone she cared about feel bad.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice low.

"Yes," Leia said, "I'm fine."

Gwen didn't immediately say anything. "You don't look fine. Lacy and Lyra…"

"Can suck my ass," Leia spat. Her lips twisted in bitterness and her eyes flashed with something approaching anger. "They don't know what it's like. I do."

Gwen's brow furrowed. "What what's like?"

By way of reply, Leia sighed deeply and stared into the distance, her jaw setting and her head shaking slightly back and forth. "They're just a couple bitches," she said sourly.

Well...they had a point, though. Maybe saying she didn't know about love or whatever was going a little far, but she was going overboard and being kind of mean. "You were kind of hard on Lizy, though," she hazarded, steeling herself for possibly being yelled at.

Instead, Leia shrugged one shoulder. "I know. I had to be."

"Not like that," Gwen said at length. "You said a lot of mean things and made her cry."

Leia drew a deep breath through her nose and let it out evenly. "Because I don't want her to be like me."

Gwen frowned. "What do you mean like you?"

Another gust of wind swept over them and goosebumps raced up and down Gwen's bare arms and legs. She shivered and pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Beside her, Leia's face was pinched in thought, crazily (and grossly) reminding Gwen of a girl pooping. There was something big in her, and it wasn't coming out nicely. "When I was six, I was the same way about Dad. I was really in love with him, I couldn't stop thinking about him and...all that."

Gwen nodded, understanding what Leia meant without her having to go into detail. Leia felt for Mr. Loud what she herself felt for Lemy. When she was around him, her stomach felt tight and fluttery and her heart staggered a sickly tempo, and when she wasn't, he haunted her every waking thought to the point of exhaustion - literally, her head would ache and the idea of thinking about him anymore made her slump her shoulders, throw back her head, and groan.

"I'd see him doing stuff with Lacy and Lupa and I wanted to do those things with him so bad it hurt." Leia's tone was sober and low. "I'd, like, see him in the hallway in his underwear and it drove me crazy and seeing his thing…" a little smile touched her lips but not her eyes. "I threw myself at him but he didn't want me. He said I was too young for him." She uttered a harsh, humorless laugh. "I kept trying and trying and he just wasn't into it. So, one morning, I climbed into bed with him and sucked his dick."

She wasn't the smartest girl in the world, but Gwen had an idea where this was going: Mr. Loud got mad, yelled at her, and she cried.

Nope. Wrong.

"He woke up, saw it was me, and tensed...but then he relaxed and started playing with my hair." When she smiled this time, her eyes lit up; she was so achingly beautiful that Gwen wanted to reach out and touch her face, but didn't.

In a flash, though, it was gone and she looked sad again. "Then my jaw locked up and I had to stop." She sighed and blinked as if against tears. "I was so ashamed. He said it was okay and felt good, but then...then he went to Lupa and…" she took a deep breath, and Gwen laid a comforting hand on her leg. "She said Dad told me about your epic fail this morning. Don't worry, I took care of him."

Gwen's heart twinged in sympathy and she squeezed Leia's leg. One thing she had in common with Lemy - a thing deeper and more important than musical taste or fashion sense - was empathy: She could easily and totally put herself into someone else's shoes, or rather...she could easily imagine how she would feel if something happened to her, and right now, she pictured that happening to her. It was Lemy's birthday again, and she was so into him she couldn't think straight. She was nervous, shaky, and had no idea what she was doing even though she acted like she did. He came into the room, and her heart blasted into her throat. She puts him in her mouth and pumps, but has to stop. He tells her it's okay...then goes to Lupa and Lupa says you failed, but I didn't. Seeing the boy she wanted with every fiber of her being getting it somewhere else because she wasn't woman enough to do it herself...it made her stomach ache, and she came this close to puking.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "That must have really hurt."

Leia wiped her eyes and nodded. "It did." Her voice was husky and thick. "It hurt a lot. I was so humiliated I cried. I felt like less of a woman." She sighed. "I know I'm kind of a bitch but I don't want Lizy to feel like that. I want to her knock Lemy's socks off. That's why I'm being hard on her, that's why I'm making her learn to be sexy and suck dick. It's better she cry now because Leia's an asshole than cry later because Lemy doesn't want her."

They lapsed into silence, the only sound the roaring of the wind knocking barren branches forlornly together and the distant honking of a car horn. Gwen searched for something to say, but couldn't come up with anything. That must have been horrible for her, oh my God. She was one hundred percent right to not want Lizy to go through that, but still, being…

She bunched her lips in thought.

"Maybe we're on the wrong track here."

Leia glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe," Gwen said, "we're focusing on the wrong person."

* * *

Lemy held Loan protectively in his arms as her tears tapered off; her trembling body slowly stilled and her breathing steadied.

They were spooning in a spill of sunshine, Lemy playing big spoon. Because Loan was so much taller than him, his feet barely reached the backs of her knees and his crotch pressed into her back instead of her butt: He couldn't reach any other way. Damn, I never realized how small I am, holy shit. I'm gonna grow up to be Danny DeVito. Or Verne Troyer.

He laced his hands under Loan's breasts and brushed his lips across her ear; the sweaty smell of her hair filled his nose and tantalized his senes: If he dwelled on it, he'd get hard again, and given her state, that might not be the best idea. Squeezing her tight, he kissed her ear and asked, "Are you alright?"

She didn't speak for a moment. "Yeah," she said, "I'm sorry, I just...that felt really good."

His fag senses tingled: She wasn't talking about the sex - or not just about the sex - but the intimacy, being told she was loved despite not being perfect.

It felt really good for him too.

He said as much, and she snuggled closer to him. "Did you mean what you said?" she asked.

Finding her hand, he put his fingers through hers and kissed the back of her neck. "Yes. Every word."

She giggled girlishly and squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry you felt like that, Loan," he said after a long pause, and he genuinely did. Her problems were a little different from his own, but at the end of the day, pain is pain and mental torment is mental torment. His had largely passed because he got what he needed - love, affection, and acceptance. People need to love and be loved, it's in our nature, we're social creatures; being alone, with no one to love and no one to love you, is hell. Loan had Dad, but apparently that wasn't enough: He had his suspicions about why, but that didn't matter. She was hurting and his natural male instincts were screaming at him to protect and nurture her like a baby bird with a broken wing. When he spoke next, he was only mildly surprised that his voice welled with emotion. "I really am." He kissed the side of her neck, then the nape, which made her shiver.

"I'm sorry for crying like that," she said. "I've never had it like that and...it felt really good."

"Like what?" Lemy asked, confused.

Silence followed, as loud as a bomb blast. "So...passionate. Dad's not like that."

Lemy's brow furrowed. "He's not?"

She shook her head. "No. He doesn't really kiss me. Or hold my hand. And he stopped going down on me when I was eleven."

"What's...what's sex like with him?" he heard himself asking.

For a moment she didn't reply. "Just...sex. He puts it in and that's it."

Oh, really? Suddenly it all made sense. Remember that shit I said about humans needing someone to love and someone to love them? Yeah, apparently Dad deadfished her and wasn't giving her the affection she needed...the affection she deserved.

Something hot and tight formed in his chest, and his lips turned sharply down. He held his sister tighter and kissed her again. What should he say? What could he say? Why the fuck did Dad do that to her? Did he do it to the others? He bet fucking not. He bet he was Casa-fucking-nova with them. Was it because Loan had issues? Didn't 'bathe like she should'? That's no fucking excuse. It was crystal clear that she needed love and affection more than anyone else in this house, and…

He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "It won't be like that with me," he vowed and kissed her shoulder. "I like the kind of stuff we did." He paused. "And I liked doing it to you."

"I liked it too," she said. "A lot." She didn't say anything else for a while, and they cuddled in silence, the only sound their breathing. Lemy distnegangled one of his hands and cupped her breast: Her heartbeat was strong, regular, and made his own quicken. "And I like this...being here. W-With you." She rolled to face him and laid her hand on his cheek; her eyes were wide, open, unguarded, and in them he saw her vulnerability her pain, and her desperation. He moved his palm up her throat and to the side of her face; her eyes darted in that triangle again, from his eyes to his mouth and back again, and for some reason he was reminded of something he read once about babies bonding with their parent by staring at their face.

Can't seem to show you how much I care

Can't seem to prove it, you're so unaware

How much I need you, I try to show

I'm always with you and I love you so

The sudden urge to kiss her overcame him and he leaned forward; she watched him close in with sweet anticipation, and when his lips touched hers, she slipped her tongue into his mouth and kissed him, her hands fluttering to his face. Their tongues worked as he ran his hand down her stomach, the kiss becoming more urgent when he reached her center and began to stroke her. Her legs fell open and she nipped his bottom lip, her breathing explosive and ragged. The Shockmaster came awake and grew to twice his normal size; she reached down and wrapped her fingers around it, and that was it. Pulling away from her lips, he shifted onto her and she spread her legs even wider to allow him access.

The lonely hours of unspoken pain

Seems like a lifetime of endless rain

In my confusion I never find

The words to tell you that you're in my mind

She guided him to her entrance, and when he felt it, he sank slowly in; she put her arms around his neck and stared lovingly into his eyes; he kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, his hips rocking faster and his mind turning over to the feeling of the moment. Loan threw back her head, arched her back and jerked up to meet his thrusts. Lemy slipped his hands into her hair and kissed her throat and her chin. She panted rapidly, her hips shooting up faster, her cum soaked walls gripping him just as steadfastly as her arms. He kissed the corner of her mouth and then looked into her eyes.

So, let me try to find a way

To do the things I want to say

Oh, can't you see

"I'm close," she said.

"So am I."

You're not alone

You're not alone

He molded his lips to hers and kissed her as his rod swelled against her walls. Her breath caught and burst from her in a rush, filling his mouth, when his seed spurted into her; she shuddered and closed around him, her body greedily sucking it deep into her womb. He gazed into her eyes and she smiled warmly, her fingers dancing across his face.

"I love you, Loan," he said earnestly.

"I love you too, Lemy," she said.

Baby you have me

* * *

It was late, the room dark but for the muted light radiating from the desk lamp. Dressed only in a pink T-shirt and her panties, Gwen sat up in bed scrolling through Facebook on her phone, her eyes flicking every minute or so to the little clock in the upper left corner: 10:30, 10:33, 10:37.

She knew Lemy was with Loan and had since before dinner, when he told her what happened between them. She's...she's got a lot going on and I...I need to spend some time with her. That was fine with Gwen - she was still working on not being so clingy, so any time that they weren't together was good practice, even if she did miss him enough to tie him to the bed and never let him go again (joking). He didn't say anything about spending the night, though, and she was not okay with sleeping alone. People might think she was a cuck, but she had her limits and him sleeping somewhere else but with her in his arms was where she drew the line, Loan having problems or not.

10:40.

She'd wait another twenty minutes; if he wasn't back she'd go to Loan's room and find him. Hey, are you ready to go to bed? She didn't have to say anything beyond that, he was smart and the implication would be clear: I want your attention now.

It sounded bad when you put it like that, but it was true.

Sighing, she swiped her thumb across the screen and watched names, faces, memes, and cat videos flash by. You know who she hadn't seen a post from in a while? Her mother. Mother didn't use Facebook often, but, now that she was thinking about it, often enough that she should have come across at least one or two in the past...when was the last one? She couldn't say; she didn't particularly want to see what her mother was up to, but deep, deep down she still kind of sort of maybe cared about her. She was her mother, after all, and as much as she loved living with Lemy, if she texted her and said I love and miss you, Gwen, please come home she might do it.

Might.

Hopefully something bad didn't happen to her.

Heart beginning to race, sure that her mother had drunkenly fallen down the stairs and broken her neck weeks or even months ago, Gwen tapped the search bar and typed in her mother's name and hit the little spyglass button.

The page loaded instantly, and she saw her mother's profile pic. Under that:

ADD FRIEND.

Gwen blinked. A-Add friend? That didn't make any sense, they were already frie -

Then it hit her, and icy nails dug into her heart.

Her mother unfriended her.

Somehow, living for nearly three months with Lemy and his family, not seeing her mother, not getting so much as a text from her...none of that really drove the point home. But this...this did. Looking at her mother's closed lipped Mona Lisa smile, Gwen's vision blurred with sudden and inexplicable tears.

Mother really didn't want her.

She blinked and studied the photo for a moment, a strange mixture of hurt, anger, and sadness swirling in her chest like a raging tempest. Anger won out; she clicked on her mother's profile, found the BLOCK button, and stabbed it savagely.

ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO BLOCK USER?

Yes.

USER BLOCKED. WE'RE SORRY YOU HAD THIS EXPERIENCE.

So am I, Gwen thought and squeezed her eyes closed against the tears. So am I.

Getting ahold of herself was hard, but she managed, and by the time Lemy slipped through the door at 10:58, you'd never know by looking at her that her heart had been ripped out, flung to the ground, and stomped mercilessly. When he came in, her heart leapt and she almost sprang out of bed, tackled him, and covered his face with kisses.

"Hey," he said and pulled his shirt off.

"Hey," she said, straining to keep the I'm-a-dog-and-I'm-happy-you're-home quality from her voice. "I was about to come after you."

Lemy unbuckled his belt and wiggled out of his jeans; he wore black boxers that clung snugly to his bulge. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly, "I didn't mean to that long."

Kicking his jeans aside, he came over to the bed and knelt, his weight making the mattress depress. He leaned over, and she met his lips with hers; it started chastely, but he darted his tongue out to say hi, and she greeted it with her own. He touched the side of her face and deepened the kiss. When it broke, she beamed up at him, her eyes twinkling like diamonds in moonlight. "I missed you," she blurted.

"I missed you too," he said. He took her in his arms and held her to him. Grinning like a satisfied cat, she circled her arms around his waist and hugged him tight, her mother and other things completely forgotten; she turned her head and rested it against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat rhythmic, comforting.

"How is she?" she asked later. The room was dark and Lemy held her from behind, his fingers woven through hers and his cheek resting against her cheek.

"She's...alright, I guess," he replied at length, "she just.." he trailed off as if in search of the right phrase. "She's going through some of the same stuff I went through. You know, before."

From the beginning of their relationship to now, Lemy had been completely honest and open with her about everything, including the depression, isolation, and brutal cucking he suffered before losing his virginity to Leia. When he told her about how lonely and out of place and unloved he felt, tears filled her eyes and she held his head to her breast like a protective mother. I'm so sorry, she said - she knew all too well what it felt like to be sad and alone, and it killed her inside that he did too. She didn't know much about Loan, but she could kind of see where maybe she could have similar feelings: She wasn't social...at all...but to be fair, she wasn't very, hm, inviting.

She said so, and Lemy sighed. "I know. I don't really have a handle on her. I think she wants to be closer, but she's afraid, so she pushes everyone away. She feels disconnected, you know?"

"That's kind of her fault," Gwen said.

Lemy didn't reply for a moment. "Yeah, it is. I'm not saying it's not. Just that...maybe being a bitch for her is a defense mechanism or something. We talked a little and I know what she's feeling but not necessarily the root cause. I just know she feels a lot like I did and that's fucked. I felt like shit"

Gwen started to tell him she knew what it was like herself, but stopped when she remembered something. "Speaking of someone feeling like you."

He was silent.

"Lizy."

She felt him tense slightly at the mention of his little sister's name, and the atmosphere seemed to get just a little heavier. She fully expected that. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "She came to me the other day and we talked. She's really in love with, Lemy."

When he didn't reply, she pressed on. "And she wants to be with you. Sexually."

Lemy sighed deeply.

She told him everything from the other morning when Lizy woke her up to the that day's training session in the kitchen. She even told him an abridged version of Leia's story, how she tried to please her father but couldn't, and how deeply it hurt her. Lemy listened without comment or interjection. "I know you're not into her," she finished, "but she wants you so bad. She reminds me of me." She chuckled mirthlessly, then twisted the knife deeper. "She reminds me of you too. How you wanted Lyra."

For a long time, Lemy didn't reply, and Gwen could feel him fumbling in the dark for a response. "I get it," she said before he could speak. "I really do, but...you should try to look past that. She's a beautiful little girl and she worships the ground you walk on. You can't ignore her, Lemy, it wouldn't be right."

"I know," he said, his voice heavy, nearly a moan. "I don't wanna hurt her."

"Then don't."

"She's my little sister," he said, "I've told you. I changed her and held her when she was a baby…" he trailed off and sighed dejectedly.

"I know," Gwen said, "but you're going to break her heart if you keep brushing her off. You need to at least try. Just give her a chance."

Lemy was quiet for a long time, and Gwen could almost hear the cogs and wheels turning in his mind as he mulled the matter over. "Alright," he said, his voice a dry croak, "I'll try."

Gwen smiled and snuggled closer. "Thank you."

Long after she fell asleep, Lemy lie awake, thinking.


	10. The Lizy Situation

**Lyrics to Your Own Worst Enemy by Alice Cooper (2005)**

You get up every morning on the wrong side of the bed

You butter your hand instead of the bread

Drink enough coffee to wake the dead.

Ever have one of those days where you wake up, look around the room, and say 'nah'? Lemy did. In fact, that's how his Saturday started: He lifted his tired head, cast one blurry glance at his surroundings, and decided (executively) to go back to sleep and stay there for the rest of his life. For one, he was mad tired - lying awake half the night does that to you - and for two, well, for two he had to do something about The Lizy Situation. He was at a metaphorical fork in the road, and there were two options: Go left and hurt Lizy the way Lyra hurt him, or go right and...know her. Ya know, in the biblical sense.

You're doing 85 and the light is turning red

The judge took your license and forbid you to drive

And your heart is pumping bacon and you're barely alive

Have sex with her is what he meant.

Look, he'd known for a long time that she was into him, this wasn't a startling revelation like yo, you bout to have the Son of God, Mary, brace yo'self. Even so, he was kind of hoping to put it off until never. After she kissed him that day they were watching wrestling together, he did everything he could to weasel away from her affections, and it looked like she was content to wait until she was older. Apparently he was as wrong as an autism joke (that shit's not funny, bro). That meant he had to deal with it now rather than pass it onto future generations like the national debt. Lovely. I'm so thrilled.

You trip on your shoelace and fall on your face

Your hair is a mess, your clothes a disgrace

Your stocks went south and your girlfriend is gay

Your dog ate your cat and that was your good day

Fun fact: Trying to decide whether to break your little sister's heart or her pelvis isn't the easiest thing in the world, especially when you're barely awake and slept like a baby the night before - up every hour crying. He wanted to retreat back into the chambers of sleep, but his mind was spinning like a dynamo and drifting back off was not an option. He turned his head to Gwen, who was curled up on the edge of the bed and motionless save for the gentle rise and fall of her rhythmic breathing. He briefly considered waking her up for a little morning distraction, but decided against it: As preoccupied as he was, he'd probably have trouble getting it up.

You're your own worst enemy

You're a walking catastrophe

You're at war with yourself and nobody else

You're a danger

Instead, he laid there with one arm bent behind his head and stared up at the ceiling with a troubled frown. Alright, let's pretend we're fancy chefs on an episode of Chopped and deconstruct this steaming shit sandwich. My little sister, with whom I am very close in a normal, healthy, brotherly way, wants my dick - and possibly to straight up be my girlfriend. I don't want that because the dynamic of our relationship has always been different than the dynamic of my other sister relationships. The fact that she is related to me by flesh and blood does not factor into the equation, so let's set that aside for a minute. I've always been kind of her mentor, her protector, her...there's a fatherly aspect to it, okay? I think there always is when you're talking about older brothers and younger sisters, just as there is a maternal aspect when it's older sisters and younger brothers. I don't see her as a potential partner, I just see her as...Lizy. I have mad love and affection for her, but she doesn't make my dick hard.

That's not to say she isn't cute...I mean, she is, but I say that as an older brother and not as a guy, you know? Again, I gotta wonder how Dad does it, man, because if I see Lizy like that, he's gotta see the others ten times...more.

Except for Loan.

His lips pulled back from his teeth, lending him the appearance of an angry dog; he drew a sharp breath and let it out in a hiss. It was really fucked up how Dad did her - loveless, passionless sex - and it really pissed him off because Loan deserved better. Yeah, she was kind of an asshole, but assholes need love too, and she wasn't much of an asshole to him yesterday. She was that way with Dad - always sweet and loving toward him but indifferent to everyone else. He fully expected her to do that to him now...at least he hoped she did, because he liked seeing her softer side. It was nice.

It also pissed him off...and this made him feel bad...because he saw so much of himself in Loan yesterday that all those thoughts and emotions from before Gwen, before Leia, came rushing back like a CGI tsunami in a SyFy Channel disaster movie. Yeah, their circumstances were different, but only like taking a sword to the head is different than taking a bullet: Both are serious fucking grevious wounds. In his prime (of being an angsty vrgin fuckboi), any sex would have done it for him, but Loan was a little more advanced. It's like...the hierarchy of needs he read about. First a man needs food, then after he has that he needs shelter, etc. She was further down the road than him at that point, but that didn't mean she needed what she needed any less.

And Dad wasn't giving it to her.

Hell, if all the sex - the main currency of love and affection here - that he had was mechanical and going-through-the-motions, he'd be fucked up too. He knew Lola was into it, and Luan, and Lana, and Lynn, and it helped them bond. Like, he felt closer to them all now. If they got on top of him and just did their thing (you almost done, kid? I got places to be)...yeah, that'd hurt.

I oughta go have a little talk with him, let him know what he's doing to her

Sure.

Great.

But first…

...Lizy.

Sigh. I can always do that -

No, brah, no putting it off. Time for that's passed.

Fine. Where was I?

Right. Doing...that….with her is a pretty tall order, you know? The alternative is that I reject her, which will fuck her all up no matter how gently I do it. She's gonna sit there and see me fucking everyone in the house but her and she's going to feel like garbage, like she's worthless and I don't love her. That'd be worse than what Lyra did to me...far, far worse, because at least she'd have sex with me if I asked. Man, I can picture myself in Lizy's place like that, watching the girl I loved doing everyone but me because "Awww, you're my cutesy wootsy lil baby bro, I can't do that with you." *Cheek pinch*

Yeah, I-I couldn't do her like that.

Which means I have to just do her period.

There's really no other way, and like Gwen said, it would be better for me to initiate it rather than her - hey, look, sis, I love and want you, come here.

I know, I can fake my own death; start a fire somewhere and front like it got me. Oh noes, mah skinza burnin! I just need a body.

Or I can contrive to 'accidentally' castrate myself - get Lana to let me use her table saw and do a little tribute to Paul Timberman's Workshop. Hahahaha, I love that skit. Guy hosts a show where he does woodworking and shit and hurts himself in every episode...often fatally.

That might be going a little too far in this case. I mean...Loan, Lyra, Liby, and Lacy have all gone a round or two with Shocky, and none of them were weirded out. Ew, my little brother! Gross! None of his aunts, either. Maybe he was the odd one.

He chuckled humorlessly. Yeah, I'm the freak for not wanting to dick my baby sister. Then again, I have no problems letting my thirty-some-year-old aunts fuck me, so really, I'm a hypocrite in a headband.

Even so, I just...I dunno, okay? I'm gonna do it...for Lizy...because I'm a cuck/punk/bitch who does for his sisters even when it fucks him up. Hey, Lem, ride a pink bike around for me and get gay bashed so hard you still have nightmares about it. Sure, Lib-a-rino, anything for you. Of course my sisters do for me too (now more than ever, heh), so that line of reasoning doesn't hold up.

Anyway, I'm stuck doing something I really don't want to because under the military jacket, Brett Michaels hair, and tough talk, I'm a fucking teddy bear. I -

His thoughts trailed off when Gwen stirred and rolled over, her tired eyelids fluttering open and her fingers threading through her hair. "Hi," she muttered.

"Hey," he replied and stroked her forehead, "good morning."

She smiled and closed her eyes with a hum, putting him in mind of a cat curled up on its master's lap. His heart swelled to twice its normal size, burst, and then he died. The end.

No, that's not what happened; he took her in his arms and pulled her to his chest, her warmth and the steady beat of her heart against his feeling good and right. He kissed her cheek, and without opening her eyes she puckered her lips; he pecked them and she smiled. "I had a dream we were in Mexico," she said sleepily.

Lol, that's random. "What were we doing?"

"Trying to get home," she said. "We were lost. We were on a bus trying to get to the border but we went in the wrong direction and wound up deeper in Mexico."

Okay, that sounds like a nightmare: Being stuck in a country where you don't know the language and your very skin tone marks out as an outsider. And that's before you factor in the cartels, dirty water, and corrupt federales. "Did we ever get home?" he asked.

"I woke up," she said and snuggled against him, "so...yes." She ran her toes up his calf and giggled when he shuddered. "You looked really good in a sombrero."

Lemy snorted. "Did I really wear one of those?"

Gwen opened her eyes and shook her head. "No."

After a while, she got up to use the bathroom room - getting dressed first, Lemy noted - and he was alone, his fingers laced under his head and his face pointed at the ceiling. He had the urge to procrastinate...to shuffle his feet and take as long getting around to Lizy as possible, but that would just drag it out even more: All day it'd be hanging over his head like a dark cloud, rushing toward him like the light of an oncoming train in the night.

I should just get it over with.

His stomach rumbled.

After breakfast.

Swinging his legs out from under the cover, he sat up, rubbed the back of his neck, then got to his feet. At the dresser, he pulled out a pair of jeans and yanked them on, then grabbed the first shirt he laid his hands on: A black T with LYNYRD SKYNYRD in yellow against a giant Confederate flag. Couldn't wear this one outside the house or he'd catch hell. Hey, racist, where's your bike? If he went into public he'd have to cover it up with something...like a white robe, maybe.

In the hall, the bathroom line was five deep, Gwen at the end and Loan in the front: When the latter heard his door open, she whipped her head around, her face going from resting bitch to Christmas morning like that. You'd never know it from the pale skin, dark bags, and messy hair, but when she smiled she was ethereal - like Helen of Troy, only Loan's beauty was greater because of its rarity.

He fell in between Gwen, and Loan forfeited her spot in line to Luan to come over. "Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she replied; her hands, splayed on the thighs of her dirty jeans, rubbed crisply up and down, almost like she wanted to touch him but didn't have the courage. That made him frown a little; he held out his arms in an awkward gesture and she stepped into them, resting her hands on the backs of his shoulders as he circled her hips. She was so tall that he only came up to her stomach, and had to tilt his head back to look at her. The rank scent of stale sweat and dirty fabric filled his nose, but he ignored it.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked because he had to ask something, and 'how do you feel' felt a little... I dunno, clumsy.

She rubbed her hands over his back. "Better than I have in forever," she said.

"That's good."

The bathroom door opened and Mom came out dressed in jeans and a black tank top that revealed her scrawny, freckle smattered arms. The line moved up one, but Loan didn't seem to notice: She stared down into Lemy's eyes and ran her hand over his forehead, a happy little grin on her face.

Oh, God, is she in love with me too now? He searched her eyes and, I dunno, guys, it's not looking good.

Loan loving him wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he wasn't really planning on having a harem like his old man. He wasn't knocking it, but he was more than happy with just Gwen, and already there was a chance Lizy would stick around after today (he was really trying to not think about it). Maybe Dad could love fifty women at one time, but Lemy didn't know if he could. There was room in his heart, but when you have that many women, how can you fairly divide your time and attention between them?

Answer: You wind up like Dad, who has time for literally nothing else. Miss me, homeboy.

Although, I mean...looking into Loan's eyes and feeling the warmth of her body heat, his heartbeat was just a little quicker than normal, so maybe she wasn't the only one in love.

Oh.

Oh wow.

Now there's that on my plate.

My life might not look like it's still BS, y'all, but it kind of is.

He glanced at Gwen; she was chatting with Lacy, her arms crossed over her chest and her hip cocked. She said she didn't mind and liked watching and all that, but deep down he still felt just a little guilty...even though she herself had had sex with Lacy, Liby, and Lola (and Leia, if you count that epic threesome a while back). Was she just saying that because she felt like she had to? This wasn't the first time he wondered that, and it made him feel like a piece of shit: If he was a better man, he'd have told her I don't care if you like watching, I'm for you and only you. Instead he went Okay! and immediately started fucking every pussy in a twenty miles radius.

Just like the weak, pathetic, cheating bastard he was.

He didn't deserve comfort, but he hugged Loan tighter nonetheless. "Do you work today?" he asked.

Yesterday after the third time they had sex (or was it the fourth?), he called Flip and asked if she could come back. I need to find a job, she told him as they cuddled, Mom's gonna be so mad. Flip's response? I'm not cleaning those goddamn toilets. She wasn't too keen on going back and he wasn't happy about it either, since Flip was a dick who liked making fun of people, but it was only until she found something else.

"Yeah," she said gloomily. "I leave in an hour."

"Do you want me to walk with you?" he offered.

She brightened. "Yeah, that'd be cool."

When his turn for the bathroom finally came, Loan let him go with evident reluctance. As he pissed, he thought of her. Last night, as they snuggled together, he suggested she talk to her mom, but she was really against the idea, almost like it scared her. I-I can't handle a confrontation right now. He didn't push the matter, though he thought she really should. He wasn't much for confrontation himself, but he had it out with dad and now look, their relationship was ace. If Loan opened up to her mom, he was sure things would get better. You can lead a horse to water but you can't make them drink, though. It was really up to her to make that decision, not him.

Done, he went back into the hall and Loan smiled at him. He caught another whiff of her odor and almost grimaced. She needed a -

An idea came to him.

"Hey," he said and hooked his thumb over his shoulder, "do you wanna take a shower with me?"

A huge smile spread across her face and her eyes sparkled. "Sure," she said.

In the bathroom, he popped his shirt off and tossed it aside while she bent at the waist and dragged her jeans down her shapely legs. He stopped to watch them slide past her pale pink panties - some of the fabric was pinched between her butt cheeks, and he wondered how it would feel if he stuck his dick in without pulling them down.

Next came her sweater; she crossed her arms over her chest in an X, gripped the hem, and lifted it over her wide hips and ample chest with contrived slowness, the material riding up to expose inch after inch of soft, creamy flesh. Shocky woke from his slumber and Lemy's throat went drier than a ninety-year-old gay woman at a Chippendales revue. The hem slipped over her bare breasts and her erect nipples trembled; he mentally added a springy boiboiboiboinnnng sound because sometimes, you either laugh or nut in your pants like Jim from American Pie.

She pulled it over her head and dropped it onto the floor, then half turned and smirked. "Enjoying the show?"

"Very much," he said and looked her up and down, from the tips of her toes to the crown of her blonde head, his eyes lingering on her breasts. Ummm, they were perfect.

"It looks like it," she said and glanced at his crotch. He followed her gaze, and was not surprised to see his old friend The Shockmaster standing loud and proud. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down; all that separated him from the world was a thin layer of black cotton. Loan half-smiled. "Why don't you take it all off?"

"You first," he said.

"Dude, my tits are hanging out."

"Mine too."

She laughed. "Yours don't count as a private part."

He started to say something, but stopped. She had a point. It's kind of dumb when you think about it: How come a dude can walk around with no shirt but a woman can't? Oh, chicks' tits are too arousing. Uh, no, only because we make them that way. I mean...they're arousing but because we've put such emphasis on them being a secret and sexualized body part, it's even more arousing. Ya know what they say: Sex is just as much between your ears as it is your legs.

Shoving his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, he pulled them down, and his dick sprang free, the air cool against his fevered shaft. Loan giggled in that firm girly-but-not-really way of hers. "That's hot."

They pooled at his feet and he stepped out of them, entirely naked now. "Alright, your turn."

For a moment she stared at him, playing up the drama of the moment, then she pushed them down, baring the Y-shaped juncture of her thighs for his lidded eyes. Shocky shuddered like a divining rod sniffing water as they hit the floor. She stepped out of them and kicked them away. "You gonna start the shower or just look at me?"

Hmmm...I'd rather look at you, but, yeah, you need to bathe, so…

Turning, he spun the hot water knob, then added some cold, one hand thrust under the facet to test the temperature. Loan came over and laid her palms flat on his back; when she ran them over his bare flesh, he shuddered. Satisfied that the water was just right, he stood to his full height, and she draped her arms over his shoulders and pulled him against her, her questing fingers crawling down his chest and her heat caressing his back. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against her, reveling in the sensation of her touch.

"You ready?" she asked.

"So ready," he said.

"I meant to get in the shower," she laughed.

"I didn't," he said archly. He pulled away from her embrace and climbed in. He held out his hand, and with a smile, she took it and stepped over the wall, the water beating down onto her back. She turned and let the water fall onto her breasts.

"Liking the view?" she asked. "Of my ass?"

Lemy cupped her butt cheeks in his hands and squeezed, which made her jump a little. "I'm lovin' it."

She snickered. "Okay, McDonald's." She ducked her head under the water and wetted her hair; rivlets sliced down her back and dripped down her butt. Shocky found this pleasing and did his Scrappy Doo bit. Let me at it, Lem, stop being a bitch. Chill, will ya? We can maybe do that in a minute, but the whole reason I got her in here is to wash her. She's beautiful and great, but she kinda smells.

Grabbing a bar of soap from the ledge, he lathered his hands, returned it, and rubbed them slowly over her back, smearing white across her flesh. She leaned back and he stroked her sides, then around to her stomach. "That feels really good," she said.

He crept his hands up and slid them over her breasts, her nipples raking across his palms. Her breath hitched and she tilted her head back. He rubbed in slow, lazy circles then grazed down...past her stomach...over her mound...between her legs. She uttered a breathy "Oh" that turned to a sharp inhalation when he pressed his middle finger against her clit.

Okay, fuck bathing. Snaking his other arm around her hip, he cupped her left breast and kneaded the nipple as he began rubbing her. She reached back, found his dick, and wrapped her hand around it, the kiss of her skin against his sending shivers down his spine. She gripped and started to stoke in long, slow strides. He rested his forehead against her back and rubbed faster; she was beginning to get wet and the motion of his thumb produced a wet shlicking sound.

He was losing himself to passion; he kissed her wet skin and squeezed her breast, eliciting a moan from her throat. He moved his hand down between her lips and slipped his middle finger into her boiling pool of moisture. She clutched him and stroked faster, her hand smearing his precum and gliding wetly up and down his length.

That was it. Panting and trembling with need, he pulled away. "Bend over," he trembled. She turned, her face red, and switched him spots, her hand skipping across his chest. He stood with his back to the spray as she bent and splayed her hands on the rim of the tub, her cheeks spreading away from her glistening pink center. As soon as she was in position, he grabbed her hips, brought his tip to her entrance, and thrusted, her body sheathing him to the hilt. She gasped and pushed back, the pressure making his eyes roll. He thrusted again, and she grunted. "I'm not gonna last long," she warned.

"Neither am I."

Not long wound up being less than two minutes. He went first, his orgasm blasting from him like an artillery shell and slamming against the opening of her womb, which threw her into her own climax. Her walls bore down on him and squeezed the rest of his nut from him like toothpaste from a tube. Spasms wracked her body and his knees went weak, nearly giving out and spilling him to the floor of the tub.

After, they bought fought to catch their breath, then he pulled out in a rush of oozing white sperm. She rose to her full height and pressed her hands against the wall to steady herself. Lemy watched himself drp from her passage, and frowned. The point was to get her clean, brah.

Sighing, he picked up the soap and started to scrub her back. Don't do it again, he admonished himself.

But he did.

Oh, he did.

* * *

"Hey, Gwen."

Gwen turned her head and stiffened slightly as Lyra dropped onto the couch next to her.

"Hi," Gwen said and glanced away; it came out more curtly than she meant and she felt a rush of embarrassment. "How's it going?" she added to hopefully soften the blow.

Kicking her feet up onto the coffee table and crossing her arms, Lyra shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I'm kind of excited." A sly grin touched her lips and a light twinkled in her eye. Did she mean excited, or excited? Around here you could never tell; the Louds were so uninhibited that you were just as likely to hear someone say I'm horny as you were to hear them say I'm tired.

"For what?" she asked and glanced from Lyra to Lizy. The little girl, dressed in a short sleeve white blouse, a plaid skirt, dress shoes, and socks pulled up her claves, sat in the armchair catercorner from the couch, her legs stuck out in front of her and her hands resting in her lap. She wore her hair in a lank ponytail that lay across her back and an absent expression on her face: she stared at the TV but, Gwen imagined, wasn't registering what was happening. She passed most of the morning staring at Lemy and sighing sadly, her eyes brimming with need, longing, and hurt. When he left to walk Loan to work half an hour ago, she looked like she was going to cry - Lizy, not Loan, though she didn't look too happy either.

Lyra smiled dreamily. "For the show tonight. BodaciousE and the Fist of Pain. I won two tickets from the radio station. I had to sing one of their songs all the way through."

Oh wow. That sounded embarrassing. "You knew all the lyrics?"

"No," Lyra snorted, "I picked an instrumental and did two minutes of guitar noises. The deejay said he pitied me and let me have them." She laughed and Gwen laughed too. It was kind of funny.

In the chair, Lizy sighed heavily.

"I was thinking," Lyra said, "maybe you could come with me."

Gwen looked at her. Uh...what?

Lyra lifted one hand and let it flop back to her leg. "I mean, it'd be cool to hang out, you know, get to know each other a little better." She laughed. "You're practically my sister-in-law and I don't even really know you."

That was true, and Gwen was making an effort to acquaint herself with Lemy's aunts and sisters a little more. The thing was...she knew it was unreasonable, but Lemy still had feelings for Lyra, and Gwen was a little uncomfortable with it.

It wasn't so much the feelings themselves as it was, she thought, the lingering memory of a time when Lemy loved Lyra but not her. For a while, Gwen outright hated Lyra, and envied her so hard it made her sck to her stomach. Things were different now, but something like that - feeling such an intense emotion toward someone - is really hard to get over.

Part of her - a big part - wanted to say no, but another part of her wanted to get to know Lyra and to like her and to not look at her and remember how terrible she felt in the beginning...how sad, desperate, and unloved. "S-Sure," she said hesitantly, "that sounds like fun."

Lyra grinned. "Rockin. It's a date." Her smile faltered a little. "I don't mean like that, just...you know...we're gonna hang."

Blushing a little, Gwen forced a smile. "Yeah. Hang out. What kind of, uh, music do they play?"

"Melt-your-face-the-fuck-off-metal," Lyra said with a leer. She balled her fist and extended her forefinger and pinky in a devil horns' sign.

Oh. Uh...that really wasn't her thing, but that's not really the point - the point was to hang out and bond. Who knows, maybe she would like it: She liked some of the stuff Lemy played. Aerosmith was really good and so was AC/DC, though some of the latter's stuff was pretty blistering. Her favorite from them was TNT, but that was only because Lemy ate her pussy to it once, and if she associated a song with a skull-crackingly good orgasm she was bound to like it.

She nodded. "Cool. I like that kind of music."

"Awesome," Lyra said, "it starts at seven so we gotta leave here by five. You got sneakers, right?" she asked and looked pointedly at Gwen's dress shoes.

Gwen nodded. "Yeah, upstairs." When she first moved in, Lola and Leni took her to the mall to shop, much to Gwen's horror. No, I don't want anything, really. To herself she added: I'm not a freeloader and I'm super not comfortable with this, can we leave? Despite her protestations, both women insisted. Kid, ya got one outfit, Lola said, you need clothes and I'm gonna make you look good. One of the many, many things they bought her was a pair of gray and pink Nike tennis shoes with gel insoles. They were really comfy.

"Good," Lyra said, "you're gonna need 'em, cuz there are no seats at this place and we're gonna be standing."

On TV, the noon news was wrapping up: Video footage of a familiar man in a baseball cap with an extra long bill being escorted to a car by uniformed police officers played. "...thrill killers murdered eleven people across five states before Tuesday's shootout. One of them was killed by police and the other was taken into custody." The scene cut to videotape of a man in a leather jacket and sunglasses kneeling behind the rear end of a car and shooting at a cop who ducked behind his cruiser. Another cop lay between the two vehicles, a pool of blood spreading around his head. The guy in the leather jacket ran out of ammo, and while he was reloading, the cop popped up and fired: The bullet went through the gunman's head in a shower of blood and brain matter, and he toppled back, dead. Gwen's jaw dropped and Lizy's eyes widened. Oh, my God. Since when do they show stuff like this on the news?

"You also might wanna wear pants instead of your skirt," Lyra said, taking Gwen's attention from the TV, where the cop beat the man's lifeless body with a billy club. "Some guys like to cop a feel at these things," Lyra said, "and seeing hot, bare legs makes them more likely to do it."

Gwen blinked. "Uh...really?"

"Yep."

Oh.

Suddenly, Gwen didn't want to go at all.

"It's all cool, though," Lyra said, "I hook up with dudes at concerts all the time." She smiled fondly and tilted her head back. "I sucked this guy's dick in the middle of the crowd at a Raganoxer show once. I heard people like oh, gross, she's blowing him, and it really turned me on. I guess I'm an exhibitionsit."

Gwen could believe it with as many times as she saw her and Mr. Loud doing it on the couch, and in the dining room, and on the hallway floor, and...you get the picture.

"If you want, we can totally get laid," the older girl offered.

What? No! She had a boyfriend: Lemy. And he was pretty freaking perfect, if you asked her. Not a perfect person, but perfect for her, and she was very happy with him.

Her mind flashed back to this morning, the way Loan looked at him and held him tenderly in her arms. She glanced at Lizy - the little girl who loved him and wanted to be with him. She thought of Liby and Lacy and Lola and all the others who were constantly after him...whom he was constantly fucking while she stayed loyal. To be fair, she'd been with Liby and Lacy and Lola too, and she was the one who told him he could have sex with his aunts and sisters. She didn't mind, though.

Not at all.

Well…

Maybe a little but only because there was the ever present fear - nay knowledge - that he might fall in love with one of them like he did with Lyra, and suddenly wouldn't want smelly, ratty old Gwen anymore. She told herself that wouldn't happen, but deep down...what if it did? Things were hunky dory now, but who knew what it would be like in a year, or two, or ten.

She didn't mind sharing him...just as long as he didn't stop loving her.

"If you want," Lyra repeated.

Gwen shook her head. "No, that's okay."

She didn't want any other man, just Lemy.

Only Lemy.

When Lemy got home from walking Loan to work, he found Gwen and Lyra on the couch and Lizy sitting in the armchair. The latter looked up, saw him, and beamed, her face lighting up like a lamp. She looked so small in that chair...so little…

And what the hell was she wearing? Plaid skirt, black socks pulled nearly to her knees, white blouse and tie - she looked like Leia and Liby had an oops and decided to keep it. Her hair was pull back in a loose ponytail and...was she wearing eyeliner?

She's all dolled up for ya, brah.

A shiver raced down Lemy's spine. Look, you guys know how I feel, there's no need for me to flog a dead horse here, but...no, you know what? That's counterproductive. I just gotta suck it up and power through; I can't back out, it'll break her heart.

An image flashed across his mind: Four year old Lizy curled up in his lap as he read her a story; he did silly voices and she giggled hysterically.

THAT! That right there! How the fuck can Dad just...gahhhh!

Shutting the door behind him, he looked at Gwen and nodded toward the stairs. C'mon, I need a pep talk or I'm gonna run out into traffic and end it all.

She caught his drift, got to her feet, and came over, falling in behind him as he climbed the steps. He could feel Lizy's eyes hot and heavy upon him, but ignored them - just barey. In his room, he shrugged out of his coat and dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumping. Gwen sat next to him and put her hand on his leg. "What's up?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"Lizy," he sighed. "I'm gonna...make a move but...I'm kind of wavering."

Gwen nodded. "You have to stop looking at her like that. Forget all the big brother stuff."

Lemy laughed sardonically. "Yeah, because that's so easy."

Gwen rubbed his back and thought for a minute. "Or...just focus on how good you'll be making her feel...physically and emotionally."

Lemy opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it closed again; his mind went back to the look of bliss on Loan's face as he made love to her, and to the way her eyes sparkled like sapphires, to the way he caressed her body like a pervert faith healer, and to the way it responded. She was like an empty cup and he was a pitcher, love pouring from him and filling her cold, tired body.

He did derive satisfaction from making women feel good, especially if they were hurting and really needed it. Baby bird principle. Strange fetish, huh? Even among weirdos he was weirdo.

Regardless, if he could focus on what Lizy was getting from it, maybe he'd be okay. "Yeah," he said, "t-that might work."

Gwen smiled and pecked his cheek, the soft brush of her lips against his skin sending a pleasant chill down his back. "You're a good man, Lemy, you can't blame her for falling in love with you."

Yeah? Well, he didn't feel like a good man; he felt like a nervous, shaky, filled-with-dread man. "Thanks," he said.

Gwen patted the spot between his shoulder blades. "You ready?"

For a moment he didn't speak. "Yeah," he finally said, "as I'll ever be."

"Good," Gwen said and got up. "You're going to make her the happiest little girl in the world."

I know, and if I focus on that, I can get through this.

I can get through this.

I hope.


	11. Consummation

**Lyrics to Cry Little Sister by Gerald McMahon (1987)**

Lincoln Loud loved all of his sisters - as siblings and as more - but he didn't love all of the same things they did, like Lisa's disco, Lola's taste for expensive jewelry, Lynn's fanatical devotion to sports...and Lana's love of The Home Depot. He didn't know shit about handyman stuff beyond the absolute necessities, and frankly, it bored him to tears. Not her, though; presently she was going through a display of screw or lug nuts or something with a big smile and eyes that twinkled like starlight: She'd take one out, examine it, then put it back and move onto the next as if trying to determine which fruit was the ripest. As far as Lincoln could tell, they were all the same.

It was pushing one and they had been here for nearly three hours, making their way from one aisle to another with agonizing slowness. Lincoln's feet hurt, his back ached, and a tension headache was beginning to form above his left eye. It was stuffy, and the smell of lumber and god-only-knows-what-else choked the stagnant air; he shoved a finger between his neck and the collar of his shirt and pulled it away from his tacky chest. Lana moved onto a shelf crammed with light bulbs of every shape, size, and description, and hummed her interest. "I could use some of these." She picked one up, studied it for a moment, then put it back and picked up another identical to the first.

Oh, come on. Lincoln leaned against the cart and propped one foot on the edge of the rack underneath. Lana glanced down at a low shelf, gasped, and dropped to her knees. "I didn't know they had these!" She rocked forward, snaked her arms in, and rocked back, a metal clamp in her hands; from the look of excitement on her face you'd think it was a precious gem. Even tired, headachy, and sore, Lincoln cracked a smile. "That's a nice clamp," he said.

"Uh, yeah," she said around a huge grin, "it's a Hoffman and those are the best on the market." She reached in, grabbed a handful, and got to her feet. She brought them over and dropped them into the cart with a perky bounce. On the surface, she and Lola were totally dissimilar, but if you dug just a little deeper, you'd find they were far more alike than you would imagine: Lola acted the same way, only over shoes and handbags instead of drill sets and digital stud finders.

Lincoln looked at the carriage - it was almost full. You wanna know something funny? They came here for three things: A can of paint, a roller, and a replacement toilet seat because someone broke the last one. Honestly, he suspected it was Lana herself - if there were no projects to undertake, she sometimes made them: She'd come to him saying there was a hole in the upstairs wall, and there would be plaster dust on her knuckles. Sure enough, it was a fist-shaped hole. One of the kids musta been mad about something, she'd say and put her hands on her hips. I'll have 'er fixed up in no time.

Gee, Lana, sure, one of the kids and their adult sized hand must have been real upset.

He confronted her about it once, and from the guilty fear in her eyes, he knew - then she seduced him, they had sex, and that was that. That was a favorite tactic among his sisters - if Lincoln's not happy about something, fuck him. Not very fair. Then again, he used it on them too. LOL! Kind of underhanded, but, hey, if you have a get out of jail free card, you play it.

"C'mon," Lana said, "I wanna check out the bathroom fixtures."

"Really?" he asked. "We were just over there like an hour ago."

"I know," she said, then grinned, "which is enough time for them to have added something new." She turned on her heels and started down the aisle, her butt wiggling under her jeans. You know...a view like that made these little excursions worth it.

Well...almost.

Gripping the cart, he pushed: Ooof. The thing was so damn heavy it would barely move.

At the end of the aisle, he stopped and looked around, spotting Lana standing with a group of people gathered before a lavish pre assembled bathroom set; a Home Depot employee wearing an orange apron over a plaid shirt rested one hand on the granite sinktop and spoke. As Lincoln walked up, Lana rolled her eyes. "That's a three and five eighths faucet connector, not a three and three quarters."

Uh-oh.

The man in the apron ignored her. "...plus, it comes standard with a Fishwall Mirror, one of the -"

Lana let out an exaggerated sigh. "That's clearly a Barclay made mirror. Do you really work here, or did you just come in off the street?"

Being passionate about building and remodeling, Lana was something of an armchair expert, and she was not the type of person to let someone get away with being wrong about something pertaining to it. Or to be nice about calling out 'ameture bozo hacks.'

A dark shadow flickered across the man's face, then it was gone. "Yes, ma'am, I've been working in this department for five years."

Lana blew a raspberry. "And you still don't know the basics?"

"The sticker says Fishwall."

"And I say Barclay."

Everyone was looking from her to him like kids in a crowded school hallway watching a fight. Lincoln pinched the bridge of his nose, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Ma'am, I'm the one wearing the orange apron," the man said tightly, "go help your husband find what he needs."

Lana's eyebrows shot up. Lincoln laid a steadying hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away and went over to the sink; for a moment, she and the man glared at each other, then she turned around and smiled. "Alright, folks, what we have here is your classic Barlow sinktop -" she slapped the granite surface "- it's durable, long lasting, and goes well with just about any design scheme you can throw at it. I personally recommend wood toilet lids from Creed and Crandall, available on aisle five, for a rustic and all natural look."

The man clenched his jaw and stared daggers at her, then spun on his heels and stalked away.

"...Underwood light fixtures over the mirror, Pangborn faucets, Torrance basin - these bad boys are all but indestructible. You'd need a nuclear missile, and even then I'm not one hundred percent sure."

The crowd leaned in, completely lost in her thrall. Lincoln glanced over his shoulder as the employee returned with another man, this one wearing an orange baseball cap in addition to his apron. MANAGER was written across the front in white. Aw, Jesus.

"...If I were doing the job, I'd install a claw-foot tub by Marsh and Hanscom - which is currently in stock on aisle ten - but that's just me. I like the vintage look." She looked at the mirror and frowned. Gripping the Fishwall sticker between her thumb and forefinger, she pulled it off to reveal flowery cursive writing.

BARCLAY.

The audience gasped; Lana crossed her arms and nodded. "I told you it was Barclay; the design is unmistakable. Now, Barclays are naturally streak resistant, but if you really wanna make 'em shine, you need to use a little Rosewood glass cleaner - which you can find on aisle three. And while you're there, pick up a can of Cromwell and Kennison brass polish for the cabinet knobs." She spoke with the fluid ease and confidence of a woman who knew what she was talking about. To be fair, she was a woman who knew what she was talking about.

A man in the front of the crowd stepped forward. "I want one."

"Me too," someone else said.

A murmur of agreement ran through the assembly. Lana looked around and pointed to a register where a bored looking woman in an apron stood. "There you go. Give her your order and she'll get you set."

The crowd dispersed and Lana came over with a grin. "Sometimes you gotta take matters into your own hands," she said.

Lincoln opened his mouth to speak, but the man in the manager hat cut him off. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

Lana's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Lincoln tensed. A couple months back he and Lemy got themselves banned from The Pizza Dungeon, now it looked like Lana - and only Lana, sorry, sis, not taking the fall - got them banned from Home Depot.

"I'm Buck, the manager...and I have to say, I am very impressed."

The employee's smug smile dropped.

"Thank you," Lana said, "home remodeling is my passion."

"And you seem to know your stuff. How would you like to join our team?"

Lana's jaw dropped, and Lincoln winced in expectation of a girlish squeal that never came - she was like Lola, but not the same, and could contain herself, even if only just. "Work at Home Depot?" she asked breathlessly.

Buck nodded. "Yup. Here in the bathroom department."

"But, Buck," the employee started.

"I'd love to! T-That'd be a dream come true!"

"When can you start?"

Lana grinned. "Give me an apron and I can start right now."

"Alright," Buck said and turned to the employee. "Tom, give me your apron."

* * *

Lemy stepped off the last stair tread land onto the living room floor like a dead man walking on the green mile. His heart thumped weakly against his ribs, his stomach rolled, and his palms were slick with sweat. Gwen, coming down behind him, gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze and he reached up to pat her hand, his eyes going hesitantly to his little sister, who watched intently, the corners of her lips turned up in an anxious smile.

Alright, Loud, you headband wearing fuck, let's do this.

Pulling away from Gwen, he went over to the side of the chair; Lizy's smile widened as he approached, and when he stood over her, she positively shone. "H-Hi," she said.

"Hi," Lemy said, surprised by the steadiness of his own voice. "Do you mind if sit with you?"

Lizy scooted over so quick she would have tipped the chair if she were bigger. Taking that as a yes, Lemy sat down and rested his hands on his knees. His posture was stiff, unrelaxed, like a man taking a load off in Old Sparky. I'm tired of people, boss. Gwen leaned over the back of the couch and whispered something into Lyra's ear; the older girl looked at Lemy and donned a sly grin that made him blush in embarrassment. She got up, went around the side of the couch, and followed Gwen upstairs, pausing to lean over the banister. Rock her world, she mouthed and shot him the devil horns - pinkie and index finger extended.

He held up his hand. Yep.

When she was gone, he sighed. Fun fact about that gesture: In Italy, it's a way of calling someone a cuck. You have to wiggle your hand, though. I think. And point it at the person you're ranking. Hey, you; your wife's fucking other men.

Stop stalling, bro.

Right. Okay. He turned to Lizy, and she turned to him, a bright smile touching her lips. Just focus on how good you're going to make her feel. "You look really pretty today," he said.

"Thank you," she said, "I-I borrowed this stuff from Leia. She said it would make me look nice"

She spent all that time and effort just to impress him, shoving a goddamn cucumber down her throat, fumbling around in heels, putting on makeup...all because she knew he 'didn't want' her. Did she lie awake at night and ache for him the way he did for Lyra once? Did she stare at him at dinner with a heavy weight of loss, need, and desperation on her chest? Did she sometimes cry?

"You always look pretty, though," he said and smiled warmly.

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

He slipped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close; she tensed - omg he's touching me, squee! - then melted into him. "Yes," he said, "you're a beautiful girl. No matter what you wear."

She giggled goofily and bit her lower lip. "Thank you. You're beautiful too." Her eyes widened in shock when she realized what she said, and her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

"Thank you," he said and brushed his fingertips along her bare arm. She shivered. "That tickles," she said.

"Sorry."

For a long time, they sat in silence, his arm draped over her shoulder and her head and palm resting on his chest. Every once in a while she moved her hand as though she wanted to touch and explore his body but wasn't brave enough to do it. Right now, if she was anything like him, she was confused and unsure, afraid of making the wrong move or misiterpeting sitting with her big brother as him wanting to do adult stuff with her. He grazed his fingers up and down her arm, then closed his hand over the back of hers, their fingers threading together. Just focus on how good you're going to make her feel.

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes and he so clearly remembered her looking up from his arms like that when she was a baby that he nearly faltered.

Forget that, focus...focus...focus…

He shifted and stroked her face with the back of his hand; she closed her eyes, parted her lips, and sighed. A red blush crept across her cheeks and her breathing quickened. Her fingers curled against his chest and a shiver raced through her tiny frame. The expression on her face was one of pure rapture; his heartbeat sped up and his throat went suddenly dry. He slipped his hand into her hair and brushed his fingers through, the warm, silky feeling making his breathing catch.

Between his legs, The Shockmaster stirred.

It was happening. Holy shit, he was getting into it. A rush of shame went through his and his hand froze, his thumb coming to rest on her earlobe. She opened her eyes to narrow slits and regarded him with a pleading gaze. "That feels really good," she whispered.

In that moment, he was torn between continuing - taking her all the way - and running, getting as far away from her, and the raging, shameful erection in his pants as he could. Fleeing wouldn't do any good, though, wouldn't change the fact that he was hard for her, that despite everything - holding her as an infant, changing her diapers, reading to her, playing with her in the backyard - he could suddenly see himself laying her back and mounting her, could see himself kissing her lips and prodding between her legs, slowly easing his way in…

He knew how fucking wrong it was, and he hated himself...but he couldn't have stopped if he wanted to. He brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned in; she looked up at him with wide eyed, slack-jawed anticipation. "Can I kiss you?" he asked.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly, then she nodded. "Y-Yes."

Lemy tilted his head and met her lips with his, her hot breath puffing against him and in ragged exhalations. Vaguely, through the cloud of smoke beginning to fog his brain, he knew that this was his last chance to back out. Instead, he molded his lips to hers and slipped his tongue into her mouth. She stiffened as in in surprise, and her grip on his shirt tightened. Lemy's tongue moved over hers and haltingly explored every nook and crevice of her mouth. She didn't kiss him back, probably didn't know how, but that was okay, he would teach her, he would teach her everything the way Leia taught him.

Pulling back, he opened his eyes, and Lizy's face filled the world, her cheeks burning crimson and her closed eyelids fluttering like a dreamer in the REM cycle. Her lips were moist and parted, a ribbon of drools - hers or his he couldn't tell - dribbling down her chin. She opened her eyes just a crack, and they were hazed, unfocused; her breathing was heavy, her chest rapidly expanding and contracting. A pang of desire rippled through Lemy's stomach, and it took all of his willpower to keep from throwing her on the ground and making love to her in front of God and everyone like his name was Lincoln Loud.

He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip and savored the taste of her mouth, relishing it and rolling it over his tongue. She moved her hand across his stomach in a lazy circle and made a needy mewling sound when she saw the tent in his pants.

"Do you wanna go upstairs?"

She looked up at him and nodded. "Y-Yes."

Taking her hand in his, he got up and drew her to her feet; her knees shook and gave out, but he caught her and scooped her up like a groom with his bride, her head resting in the crook of his elbow and her feet dangling over his other arm. She stared adoringly up at him as he carried her up the stairs, her blush deepening when he laid her down on his bed.

He stretched out on his side next to her and laid his hand on her quivering stomach. She turned her head and their eyes locked; a slow, dreamy smile crept across her face. "I really liked how you kissed me," she said. "Can you do it again?"

Instead of replying, he kissed her, his hand rubbing up and down from the bottoms of her breasts to the top of her pubic mound. Drawing back, he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth; she trembled like a leaf in a tree and panted heavily. "When you kiss someone," he explained in a stammer, "you...massage their tongue with yours."

"Okay," she said breathlessly.

He kissed her again, and this time her tongue flicked clumsily against his. "Like that?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said and moved his hand down the outside of her leg, "like that." His fingers skipped over the hem of her skirt and skimmed across her smooth flesh. She stared, her breathing becoming faster as he moved his hand along her hipline; she wasn't wearing underwear...which made sense. Easier access, he could hear Leia saying. He put his lips to hers and they kissed again, Lemy going slower this time so she could keep up. When he cupped her girlhood in his hand, she gasped and broke the kiss. "Is that okay?" he asked worriedly.

Her head bobbed up and down. "Yeah," she panted and licked her lips. He brushed his hand down slowly, his palm firmly rubbing her silken lips; she closed her eyes and fought to catch her runaway breath. He was going to tell her she could touch him too, but she was shaking like a firecracker ready to pop - not exactly in a state to do much but fall apart. That was okay, though, there was plenty of time for that later.

Scooting closer, he slipped one arm under her neck and cradled the back of her head; she opened her eyes and turned them up to him: They were pooled with bubbling desire, and he'd never seen her more beautiful. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then gently sank his middle finger between her sticky folds. She was already slick with wet fire, and Lemy winced as it burned a scrape or cut he didn't know he had. He braced his index finger and pinkie against the insides of her thighs and stroked her center from the top of her entrance to the just below the hooded nub of her arousal. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back; her face was beet red now and her breath came in short, hot gasps, a tiny pant punutating every exhlation.

He watched her as he worked, the bliss he saw urging him on. He stroked his finger over her clit, and her entire body bucked against his hand, a sharp yelp bursting from her throat. "Is that okay?" he asked again.

"Umhm," she replied.

He did it again, slower, firmer this time, and her jaw dropped open. "That feels so good," she breathed. She swallowed dryly and bent her knees, bringing her heels together. Lemy propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at her, then applied pressure to her clit and rubbed in a tight, slow circle. Her back arched slightly off the bed and a long moan hummed from her lips. He went faster, and her hips began to grind against him on their own violation. His heart slammed and blood crashed in his temples; he was hanging on by a thread, close to getting on top of her and taking her virginity but holding himself back with strained, grunting effort. He increased his speed and watched her face twist and contort in pleasure so intense it might as well have been agony. She was beautiful, and he peppered kisses across her cheeks and nose, going faster, faster, his tongue ficking out to taste her bottom lip, squirming into her mouth and dancing across hers. She didn't kiss him back; she knew how, she simply didn't have the presence of mind.

Panting, his body aching for hers, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed her crazily pounding pulse. She was soaking wet now, her juices leaking out, smearing across her thighs, and soaking into the bed. She lifted her hips and, with a gasp, grabbed his arm in both hands. "S-S-Something's c-coming," she stammered, an edge of concern in her voice. "I-I'm gonna p-pee."

"No you're not," Lemy said, "let it come."

She licked her bottom lip and then clamped it between her teeth: His face was entirely red now, eyes closed, hair sweaty, strands lying across her forehead like filaments of gold. She gasped for breath and held tighter to his arm, her brow creasing as her orgasm started to come, a fire starting in her core and then exploding outward in every direction, tongues of flame licking from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She dug her nails into his flesh, held tight, and began to shake like a train going off the tracks. He went faster in one last burst of energy, and she came completely apart: She bucked against him with a yelp and convulsed violently, her climax tearing through her like heated shrapnel.

Lemy pulled his hand from between her legs and took her in his arms as she rode it out, her body curling and spasming against his and broken uhs, ohs, and hmms spitting from her quivering lips. He brushed a lock of hair from her face and kissed her forehead; her skin was fevered and damp with salty sweat.

After a moment, she fell largely still, jerking here and there as aftershocks raced through her. She burrowed into his embrace and buried her face in his chest, her hot breath breaking against the front of his shirt. His erection pressed against her leg and he found himself rocking his hips into her in search of release.

They lay that way for a long time before she pulled away, cheeks flush, eyes hazy, drool coating her chin and reminding Lemy of a cat who'd been petted to euphoria. "C-Can I touch you now?"

"Yeah," Lemy grinned, "if you want."

"I do," she said.

She watched him remove his shirt with bated breath, her eyes darting up and down from his stomach to his chest. He balled it, tossed it aside, and slowly unbuckled his belt, the anticipation in her face exciting him. Lifting his hips, he pulled them down and kicked them away, dressed now only in his underwear; his dick strained against the fabric of his boxers, and Lizy stared openly, her chest starting to rise and fall again. She reached tentatively out, then stopped and looked up at him. "Can I?"

He nodded.

She scooted closer and reached again, the backs of her fingers brushing against it. She hesitated, then ran them up his lenght, her breath hitching in excitement. When she reached his tip, which had begun to leak through the material, she rubbed her thumb across and shivered. "It's really big," she said. "Can I see it?"

Lifting up again, he jammed his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down; Shocky made his big debut, and Lizy's eyes crossed. "Wow," she breathed, wonder in her voice. She glanced up at him and smiled brightly. "Gwen was right, it is beautiful."

Lemy blushed. Well, I don't know. If you're into dicks, I guess.

She laid her hand on it and traced her middle finger down its length, from the crowned head to the base, the soft scrape of her flesh on his making his breath quicken. She brushed her fingers up again, panting, cheeks burning; a bead of precum dribbled down his shaft and touched her hand. She paused and frowned. "Are you cumming?" she asked and looked at him.

"That's precum," he said, his voice husky; he could barely hear himself over the slamming of his own heart. "It...it's supposed to help lube the girl up."

Her brow pinched in confusion.

Some things are hard to explain because of their simplicity, Lemy had discovered. Or maybe he was dumb and lacked the skills to properly articulate himself. "You know when you get wet?"

She nodded.

"That's to make it easier for someone to have sex with you. It's the same with boys."

Lizy looked down at his penis and hummed interestedly. She wrapped her hand around it and squeezed slighly; more formed at his apex and oozed down. She scooted closer and watched with childlike curiosity, so close he could feel her breath. "It feels really weird," she said and giggled. She squeezed again and moved her hand up; sensation crackled through Lemy's body and he grabbed a handful of the cover.

At his head, she let go and laid her palm flat on his leg, then grazed it up over his pubic mound. Drawing herself to her knees, she rocked forward, added her other hand, and rubbed across his stomach, feeling every ridge and contour with questing fingers. She panted and blushed furiously, her hands trembling, her eyes clouding. She licked her lips, stretched forward like a cat in a bar of sunshine, and placed a soft, sizzling kiss to the left of his naval. She kissed the spot next to it, her hands running reverlantly over him. Lemy's dick twitched and he came this close to mounting her, but exercised his epic self-control. He didn't want to rush her...he wanted to let her take as much time as she desired.

It was hard, though, so, so hard.

She trailed kisses up his chest, leaving a streak of saliva in her wake. Lemy's hand fluttered to her head and his fingers threaded through her hair. Her body was shaking as badly as her hands now as her arousal crested. Her kisses became quicker, needier, her tongue darting out to taste his skin. She moved down, her lips pressing against his stomach, the protrusion of his pelvic bone, his leg. Pushing herself up, she stared hungrily at his dick.

Lemy rolled onto his side to make it easier for her. "Go slow," he said, "don't hurt yourself."

She raked her teeth across her bottom lip and tucked a spill of hair behind her ear. Scooting back, she laid on her side, curled her fingers around his shaft, and looked up at him uncertainly. "You don't have to," he said.

"I want to," she said, "I'm just kinda nervous."

Lemy frowned. "Why?" he asked.

She sighed. "I don't wanna do it wrong. I want it to feel good."

Lemy reached out and touched her face. "It will," he said.

She looked at his dick again and stroked her hand to his base. For a moment she stared at it, intimidated, then craned her neck, her ragged breath kissing him and making him tremble. She hesitated, then stuck out her tongue and touched it to his shaft; Lemy's eyes narrowed and he sighed heavily. She licked up, her tongue hugging him, broad and flat, and slowly jacked her hand along his dick. Lemy drew a sharp hiss through his teeth and fought to keep his hips from moving. She winced when the taste of his essence filled her mouth but continued, reaching his head and wrapping her lips around his head.

"G-Go slow," he reminded her, "I'm almost there."

And he was: His climax coiled in his stomach, and at any moment it would snap open.

Stroking him, she pushed down and took him into her warm, wet mouth, her lips closing tight and her tongue massaging his underside. Saliva coursed down his dick in long, burning streams and pooled at his base. He threw his head back and held fast to the bed, every instinct in his body telling him to thrust, to create friction...just a little...just enough.

Half way down, she bottomed out and drew back, bringing her hand with her and spreading spit and precum over his rapidly tightening rod. She reached his head and went down again, faster this time, her lips scaping in the most beautiful way and her hand squeezing him as if to coax more precum from his depths.

Fire filled him and his eyes narrowed; he balled his fist and slammed it against the bed. He was so, so close and the slightest breeze would push him over the edge. "Lizy, I-I'm gonna cum."

She squeezed, drew back, then jerked down again, his head striking the soft velvet at the back of her throat. His orgasm rushed from his balls and filled his dick, swelling it with lava. She pulled back to almost the head, and with a cry, Lemy released, a hot rush of cum splattering the back of her throat and filling her mouth, She squeezed him as if in surprise and he shot another load, this one overflowing and dribbling down her chin. Lemy moaned and bucked his hips forward with his third and final volley. Lizy gagged and pulled away, long ropes of his seed spilling down her chin. She covered her mouth with her fist and coughed, spraying her hand.

Lemy tried to ask if she was okay, but his vocal cords were locked. She pushed herself up and coughed deeply. "Y-Y-You alright?" he finally managed.

She nodded and coughed again. "I'm fine," she said and patted her chest. "I just wasn't expecting so much."

He rolled onto his back and she curled up next to him, her head resting on his arm and her hand over his pounding heart. "That's what happens when you do a really good job."

She smiled, her cum soaked lips sparkling in the sunlight. "Did I?" she asked.

"You did," he said and kissed the tip of her nose. She closed her eyes and basked in the glow of his praise. Lemy kissed her again, then again, making her giggle.

For a long time, neither talked, both enjoying the warm afterglow of their respective orgasms. When Lizy finally spoke, her voice was low, faltering, as though she were afraid of asking too much. "Can we have sex now?"

* * *

Gwen slipped her hands into her back pockets and arched her back. Lyra stood next to her, arms crossed over her chest and a neutral expression on her face. The former was dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt that clung tightly to her breasts, and tennis shoes; the latter wore form-fitting jeans with flared cuffs, black heeled boots, and a purple jacket over a white T-shirt. Gwen's eyes occasionally flickered to the older girl, and each time they did she felt a twinge of jealousy: With shapely hips, full breasts, and long legs, her body was stunning. Gwen's was...bleh. She barely had boobs, her hips were hardly there, and her legs were short, stubby, and to the point.

They were in line outside The Elk Park Amphitheater, a large dome shaped building situated in the middle of a vast open space off Highway 29, and had been for nearly an hour. At one point, Gwen got bored and tried to count the number of people ahead of them, but lost track after one-fifty. If she leaned to one side, she could just make out the box office. Off to their right, beyond the metal barricades, a wide parking lot crammed with cars flanked the highway. Gwen could make out a few people tailgating: Cooking hamburgers and *sniff* chicken, sitting in lawn chairs, drinking beer, and listening to radios. Huh. She knew people did that kind of things at sporting events, but not concerts. Of course, she'd never been to either, so she couldn't really say.

The line moved an inch then stopped.

"I hate this shit," Lyra said, then grinned, "but it's so worth it. These dudes rock." She rolled her neck and glanced at Gwen. "What's your favorite band?"

Ahead, someone stumbled to one side, laughed, and shot their arm out, presumably shoving a friend the way said friend just shoved them. Gwen thought for a moment, unsure if she should tell the truth or lie and say AC/DC or something. Her real favorite band was the kind people like Lyra mocked and laughed at. "I'm not really big on music," she lied, "I do like a lot of the stuff Lemy listens to."

The line inched forward.

"Yeah, he's got some good stuff. He turned me onto a lotta things." They lapsed into an awkward silence, Gwen staring at the ground and tapping her foot and Lyra gazing off into the distance, her lips scrunched."How are you guys doing?" she finally asked.

Gwen nodded. "Great," she said.

"That's good to hear," Lyra replied, "you guys look like you go well together."

Well, that's because we do. We're like...a strange food combination you don't think will taste good but totally does: Chocolate covered pretzels or peanut butter on a hamburger (don't knock it 'til you try it). They didn't like a whole lot of the same things, but that's kind of superficial. You and your partner can love the same band and movies and still be two totally different people. It's, like, science or something.

"He makes me really happy," she said honestly.

A smile played at the corners of Lyra's lips. "You make him happy too. You know, since he met you he's been…" she trailed off and ticked her head from side to side in thought. "Happier," she settled. "He seems a lot happier. He used to look so sad sometimes." There was a hurt inflection in her voice.

And that was your fault.

That thought, and the rush of bitterness that accompanied it, surprised Gwen. It was the truth, though: Lemy was madly in love with her and she turned him down. On one hand, she thanked God for that or otherwise she might not have him, but on the other...for some reason she couldn't fully explain, it pissed her off. Lyra had no idea how hard it was for Lemy, how deeply hurt he was. And did she even care?

She turned to the older girl; she stared straight ahead, her brown hair whipping in the chilly breeze. She wanted to say something, to tell her just how much she wounded Lemy, but forced herself not to. It didn't matter. Lemy was happy now, and so was she; none of what happened before had any bearing on the present.

"I felt really bad about, you know, not returning his feelings," Lyra said, and Gwen had to wonder if the older girl read her thoughts. "I just...don't feel like that. He's great - cute, smart, funny, loving - but…" she shrugged.

"Why didn't you?" Gwen heard herself asking. "I mean...he's perfect." The last two words came out in a dreamy rush that brought red to her cheeks.

Behind them, someone cried out in pain. "Asshole!" Gwen threw a worried glance over her shoulder, but the forest of humanity was too dense to see through.

Lyra thought for a long time. "I don't know," she said. "I tried...I really did. I knew he was hurt and I wanted to fall in love with him, I wanted to make him happy, but, you know, it just wasn't there. I love him to death as a brother, but not romantically." She leaned to her left to see around the crush of people before them. Gwen got the impression that she was doing anything to keep from looking at her. "The heart's a funny thing. It doesn't reason and it doesn't do logic." She drew back and took a deep breath. "I'm really glad he met you, though. You're great."

Gwen flushed. "Thanks."

The line moved, this time for longer than ever before. The box office was ahead, less than five hundred feet: Gwen could see the person behind the window, but not very well. It looked like a woman.

"Come on," Lyra sighed, "the show's gonna start, damn." She leaned her weight on her left foot and threw her head back. "I hope they do Boi, Bring Dat Ass Here, that's my favorite by them."

Gwen's brow pinched. Uh, that's a funny name for a song. "I like that one too," she lied.

"I'd totally fuck TheBodaciousE," Lyra said, "dude's a fucking hunk. Those green eyes, that ginger hair, that effeminate face." She bit her bottom lip and hummed in appreciation. "I've been trying to get backstage with him forever. Maybe it'll be my lucky day." She sighed. "Me and you can rock his world."

Gwen's eyes widened in shock. "Uh, no, that's okay."

"You sure?" Lyra asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Gwen said, "I don't have sex with other guys. Just Lemy."

From the way Lyra's brows shot up, you'd think Gwen just told her the moon was made of cheese. "Really?"

Gwen nodded. "Yeah. I -"

"But he fucks other girls," Lyra said. "He won't let you do other guys? That's some bullshit."

"No," Gwen said quickly, "it's not like that, I just...don't really want to. I…" she trailed off, embarrassed. "I've been with other girls, though."

Understanding dawed in Lyra's eyes. "Oh, okay, Liby, right? You were talking about something she does with her tongue."

Reluctantly, Gwen nodded. "Yeah, her." Also Lacy, Lola, Leia, and Lana, but she didn't think it was necessary to say. "I don't mind him being with other girls," she said, then surprised herself by adding, "for the most part."

The line moved forward. "It doesn't bother you?" Lyra asked.

Gwen shrugged. "I just...I worry sometimes that he'll stop loving me. Otherwise, I really don't mind sharing him." Her voice hitched on the word sharing.

Lyra frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think he will," she said, "he's really into you. Like...at dinner, he doesn't stare at Leia or Liby, he stares at you, and he has this goofy little grin on his face. It's really cute."

"I know," Gwen said, "but…it's like I'm competing with twenty other girls and...some of them have breasts and know how to do all kinds of crazy things." Sudden self-loathing welled up in her chest, sharp and bitter. "What do I have?" Stinging tears filled her eyes and she covered them with one trembling hand.

When Lyra touched her shoulder, she looked up, and through a watery blur, the older girl's face was a mask of concern. "Hey," she said softly, "don't say that." She laid her hand on Gwen's shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "You have lots of great qualities.."

No she didn't. She was nothing, she had nothing. Why Lemy loved her, she would never know, and one day he would wake up, realize his mistake, and throw her away like the garbage she was.

The teas came faster and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth to keep from breaking down. Lyra rubbed a slow circle in her back, then took her into her arms; Gwen stiffened, but Lyra's warmth melted her resistance and she relaxed, taking the proffered affection without question or examination. Lyra stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth. "Do you know what I see?" she asked. "Like, everyday?"

Gwen sniffed and blotted her eyes with the heel of her palm. "What?" she asked thickly.

For a moment the older girl was silent. "I see Lemy coming up behind you and hugging you, I see him kissing you on the cheek, I see him touch you every time he passes. I don't see him doing that with anyone else. He doesn't do it with Leia, he doesn't do it with Lola or Lana or Lynn or Liby or Lacy. He only does it with you."

Lyra moved her palm comfortingly up and down Gwen's back.

That wasn't true, he did it to...she crinkled her brow in thought and tried to call up an image of him hugging Leia's waist from the back and kissing her neck, or of him patting one of his aunts on the butt as he walked by.

She couldn't.

Certainly he had to have done it, but she could not remember a single instance. She could, however, remember all the times she would be doing something and then feel his arms circling around her shoulders and his lips brushing her throat, all the fleeting touches as he moved past.

"He loves you," Lyra said, "he wouldn't do that if he didn't."

Gwen opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came. Lyra was right.

For now, at least. "What if he stops, though?" Gwen asked, her voice small and fragile, but she didn't care; this was important.

"I'm not an expert," Lyra said and looked down at the little girl, "but I don't think love works that way. You don't feel as deeply for someone as Lemy obviously feels for you and then stop." Lyra tilted her head to the side in acquiescence. "He might fall in love with other girls too, because polygamy is just how it goes in our family, but he won't stop loving you. In fact, you know who you guys remind me of?"

"Who?" Gwen asked.

Lyra grinned. "My mom and dad."

Well, Mr. Loud was affectionate with Luna. And Luan. And Lynn. And...you get the picture.

"Dad loves all of his sisters," Lyra said and nodded. "That's ten women. It seems strange, I guess, if you didn't grow up around it, but, you know, to me, it makes perfect sense. People are attracted to lots of different things. Like me, I'm into bad boys...but I also like geeks. I like dudes who have piercings and dreads, and I like dudes who are bald. I don't see why I should limit myself to just one thing; if I had ten dudes who were okay with sharing me, great. I'm just saying you shouldn't look at him being with Lacy or someone as him not wanting you or you're not making him happy. This is just how we are."

Gwen considered her words very carefully.

"If it really bothers you, though, you need to talk to him."

"It doesn't really," Gwen admitted. "I'm just...insecure, I guess." Admitting that, and to Lyra, whom she barely knew, wasn't easy, but it was the truth. It was like cancer festering in her breast, a black, maignant thing that lurked just below the surface, a nagging devil on her shoulder tugging always at her ear and whispering you're not good enough.

Seeming to sense this, Lyra frowned. "You shouldn't be. You're pretty, you're smart, and you can cook like a motherfucker." She laughed. "None of us can. Except for Liena."

True. None of the Loud girls could cook aside from Liena - Leia was the worst; she somehow managed to burn everything she put into the microwave. The other day she made a frozen pizza and after only four minutes (the exact time prescribed by the box) it came out blackened and burned. Leia hung her head ashamedly over it and sighed. I don't know how this happened.

A smile touched her lips.

"You really shouldn't worry, honey," Lyra said, "it's all good. It just takes some getting used to, that's all."

She's right, I'm just being stupid. "I'll try not to," Gwen said.

"Better?" Lyra asked.

Gwen nodded. "Better," she said earnestly.

"Good," Lyra replied. "Just -"

She cut off when someone spoke. "Pardon me, m'lady."

Lyra turned and Gwen looked up. A fat man in cargo shorts, a black short sleeved button up, and a black fedora with a white band stood behind them, a vape pen hanging around his neck. Curly blonde hair covered his neck (and his neck only), and apocalyptic acne spread across his flabby cheeks. He looked like a troll - a troll that lived not under a bridge but in its mother's basement, where it fed upon the steaming insides of Hot Pockets and masturbated to incest fanfiction.

"Yes?" Lyra asked guardedly.

His beady little eyes twinkled with a mischievous light. "Do you have a shovel in your back pocket? Because I am digging that ass."

Gwen's jaw dropped and Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Get lost, creep."

She started to turn away, but he stopped her. "M'lady, forgive my straight-forwardness. I suppose I should have endeavored to introduce myself first. My name is Paul, but my online friends call me Big Sexy." He licked one sausage like finger, pressed it to his nipple, and rubbed slowly while making a hissing sound with his lips. Lyra and Gwen both gaped. "You, on the other hand, may call me Daddy."

Lyra's body tensed, and Gwen's heart began to race. "I'm not interested," Lyra said tightly. "Go away."

"Please, m'lady," Paul said, his voice dripping with desperation, "I wish to give you something." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, then held it out. Lyra glared at him, but her curiosity got the better of her and she snatched it away.

There was a giant red V on it. She looked up at him with a sneer. "Take your fucking V card and go to hell."

Paul flinched, but snapped back like a weed. "What about your little sister, m'lady?" he asked and looked at Gwen, a horrible, slimey smile breaking across his lips. "I might not go down in history, young one, but I will go down on you." He took a menacing step forward and Gwen petrified in fear. Before he could take another, however, Lyra lashed out, her fist connecting with the side of his face, making Gwen jump. His head whipped to one side, and his legs gave out, dropping him to the ground.

"Oooooh, shit!" someone cried, "nigga got knocked the fuck out!"

Laughter scattered through the crowd. Paul pushed himself up on one arm and looked at Lyra, his eyes wide. "Y-You struck me!"

"I'll do it again, too, if you don't get the fuck out of here," she growled.

Trembling as though he was about to cry, Paul got to his feet and hurried away, throwing a fearful glance over his shoulder. "You lost your chance, m'lady."

"Fuck you!"

When he was gone, Lyra turned to Gwen and shook her head; her features were dark and pinched with annoyance. "Fucking jerks, man, I swear," she said. "You alright?"

Gwen nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Her heart was still thumping a mile and minute and her stomach rolled sickly, but otherwise she was okay. Unlike Paul the Pedophile. "That was really cool," Gwen said, "how you punched him like that."

Lyra chuckled. "Yeah, Aunt Lynn taught me. She said we need to know how to defend ourselves." She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Paul wasn't coming back, then crossed her arms. "So far I'm the only one she trained. Liby already knows it all, Liena couldn't hurt a fly, and Loan already has a natural defense - her smell."

Gwen was shocked into a giggle.

"I don't mean to brag," Lyra said, "but I'm pretty good." She threw up her fists and bobbed her head from side to side like a boxer circling her opponent. "Maybe I can show you a thing or two. You know, for when Lemy talks back." She threw a punch at the air. "Uh, right in the headband. Take that, dude."

The line started to move, and this time it didn't stop until they were almost to the box office.

Have you ever not liked someone only to wind up liking them?

Gwen had.

* * *

Fiery orange light falling through blinds, painting the wall like blood. Cool, purple twilight nestling in shadowy corners like demonic spectators come to witness the end of innocence. Muffled voices drift through the door, too low to make out words.

Lemy laid his hand on Lizy's stomach and hovered his face over hers, the tips of their noses grazing and their breaths mixing. Her eyes were wide, doe-like, and her lips trembling. She pressed her palms flat against his chest and stared up at him with pregnant anticipation, pangs of desire rippling through her burning core. Her little heart slammed against her breast and scalding liquid pooled in her center. She stared into her brother's eyes and traced her fingers over his defined chest. He smiled warmly and petted her stomach in long, slow strokes; her body quivered and her breathing changed, hitching when his fingertips grazed her bare pubic mound.

Last fire will rise

Behind those eyes

Black house will rock

Blind boys don't lie

She closed her eyes and and tilted her head back, giving herself over to his touch; electric veins crackled through her body in webs, and the heat between her legs rose as the fire in her body lifted higher.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lemy asked, his hand retreating back to her stomach. His voice was low, serious. She opened her eyes and looked into his face, his countenance dark with the coming night. Yes, she was ready; she'd been ready.

Still, she hesitated, then bobbed her head slowly up and down. "Yes," she said, her voice coming in a meaningful whisper.

Lemy moved his hand slowly down her stomach, drawing goosebumps to the surface of her creamy skin. His fingertips scraped the top of her bare thigh and pushed her skirt up, the fabric brushing delicately against her flesh and making her heartbeat quicken. Fever burned her from head to toe, hottest in the spot between her legs; passion filled her body, heavy like lead, and clouded her mind, making it hard to think. She watched through slitted eyes as he slid her skirt up around her hips; his eyes were hazed with lust, and in that moment he was not himself, not the brother she had always known, the brother who read her bedtime stories and played with her when she was lonely and no one else would - he was an animal, a creature of hungry concupiscence.

And so was she.

Immortal fear

That voice so clear

Through broken walls

That scream I hear

He shifted onto her and planted his hands on either side of her head. His tip raked across her lips and she shuddered. She stared up at him and put her hands on his chest; his skin was smooth and warm, his heart slammed into her palm. She hooked her feet over his and curled her fingers into his rippling muscles. When his head poked the inside of her thigh, she jumped a little in surprise. He moved his hips and aligned their sexes, the kiss of his body against hers making her breath catch. He rocked forward and back, knocking at her opening. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she panted.

Bowing his head, he slid his hips forward, his head squeezing to enter her, the pressure making her wince. He pulled back and then arched forward; the heavy sensation of him filling her, spreading her, was strange and painful. She hissed through her teeth, her heart slamming.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head. She wanted him to keep going, no matter how badly it hurt; she wanted to have him inside of her, to be one with him, to love him with her body just as completely as she loved him with her heart and mind.

He circled his hands around her wrists, pinned them above her head, and slipped his fingers through hers. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he pushed forward, his dick sinking slowly in and parting her walls with a burning sting. He grimaced at her unyielding tightness and pulled his hips back, his shaft pulling against her. "Do it," she panted.

Bowing his head, he threw his hips forward.

Cry, little sister

(Thou shalt not fall)

Come, come to your brother

(Thou shalt not die)

Unchain me, sister

(Thou shalt not fear)

Love is with your brother

Blinding white pain filled her skull and a breathy cry escaped her throat, hot tears springing to her eyes. She crushed Lemy's hands in her grasp and bore down on her teeth. Something deep inside of her ripped and her pelvis ached monstrously; she felt full, and like she was going to split in half. Lemy rested his forehead against hers, their noses touching. He started to pull back and Lizy squeezed her eyes shut against the sensation. When he was halfway, he slid forward again, and she moaned.

"D-Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his eyes filling the world.

She shook her head again. "N-No. Keep going."

He moved back then forward again, pumping slowly into her; her walls spasmed violently and her muscles clenched. She stared at his face, his cheeks burning with the fires of passion, his eyes hazy and muddled, lips parted. Lizy watched him, focused on him, shutting out the world until only he remained, and the feeling of his body in hers.

Temptation heat

Beats like a drum

Deep in your veins

I will not lie

The pain began to melt away, and like spring flowers, the most beautiful feeling she had ever experienced blossomed in her. She tilted her head back against the pillow and brushed her teeth across her bottom lip, her hands squeezing his and her hips starting to grind against his dick, each gentle thrust kicking up sparks like flint striking steel. His breathing became heavier, ragged, obscene as his speed increased; he was losing himself to passion and so was she, her mind rolling away and her natural instincts taking over. She dug her heels into the firm flesh of his butt and lifted her hips to meet him, her brow furrowing and a gasp bursting from her lips every time his head poked her limit.

He laid flat against her and sought her lips; she gave them, and their tongues rollicked in mindless ardor.

Little sister

(Thou shalt not fall)

Come, come to your brother

(Thou shalt not die)

Unchain me, sister

(Thou shalt not fear)

Love is with your brother

A familiar burning welled up from her center, and her body pinched. She swallowed thickly and squeezed Lemy's hands, trying to speak, to tell him that she was going to cum but producing only a wordless sigh of pleasure. She opened her eyes to slits and looked up at him as he began to unravel, his face contorting and his breathing exploding from him in hot blasts. He suddenly got bigger, straining painfully against her walls, then wet fire flowed into her. She cried out and trembled when her climax hit her; he pumped more into her, sending it deep into her womb, and she arched her back to recieve it, her body taking him to the hilt and stroking his pulsing shaft.

Little sister

(Thou shalt not fall)

Come, come to your brother

(Thou shalt not die)

Unchain me, sister

(Thou shalt not fear)

Love is with your brother

(Thou shalt not kill)

Lizy purred in contentment as her brother's sticky heat pooled in her stomach, its warmth spreading through her body. Lemy slipped his fingers into her hair and they kissed lazily, the tips of their tongues flicking and lapping in slow affection. When he pulled away, he stroked the side of her face and smiled down at her. "How was that?" he asked lowly. Purple dusk touched his face, casting his features in shadow. Outside, the sun had set, as if to mark childhood's end.

"It was amazing," she said and ran her hands over his face. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said and kissed her nose.

Moving carefully, he pulled out and stretched out next to her, his arms wrapping themselves around her. Smiling in satisfaction, she burrowed into his body, her forehead against his chest, and took a deep breath, drawing in his scent and the pungent smell of their shared love. Slipping her arm around his waist, she kissed his collarbone and closed her eyes. She was achy, sore, and shaking, but she had never been more comfortable in her life, and within minutes, she was asleep.


	12. The Four of Us

**Lyrics to I Don't Feel Like Dancin' by Scissor Sisters (2006)**

Lemy woke Sunday morning in-between two girls: Gwen to his right and Lizy on his left, the latter snuggled close and hugging his arm like a favorite teddy bear and the former with her head and hand resting on his chest. At first he was confused - why can't I move my arm, bro? - then when his eyes fell on his little sister's face, it all came back to him, and he smiled to himself. Last night, he took her virginity and she took his heart. Metaphorically speaking - he didn't know if he was in love with her or not, but watching her sleep, he felt the same stirring in his chest that he felt for Gwen and Loan, so he probably was.

Nice, huh? Lem, what's all that shit you were talking about not wanting to do it?

*Hangs head* I know, man, I know.

Lying there in the warm glow of the morning sun, he thought long and hard about his feelings for each of them. Gwen and Loan were both vulnerable and wounded, like baby birds with broken wings...both in need of love and care. Lizy was...she was different but similar; she wasn't hurt, but she was young and naive, and needed someone to protect her.

I guess I like damaged goods.

What the fuck kind of fetish is that?

He didn't know, but he had some theories. One, he was fundamentally broken and couldn't fix himself, so he tried to fix others. Two, he was a fucking predator who went for the weak ones because they were easy targets. Three, misery loves company, brah. Four...well, he hadn't gotten that far yet. He strongly suspected that it was number one: He had deep-seeded issues and realized it on a subconscious level, so he was attracted to girls who were like him and sought to make them better in lieu of making himself better.

Or maybe it was just a hobby. Who knows?

He did know this: For all intents and purposes, he was in love with three girls, and that worried him because he never planned on loving anyone but Gwen. How would she react when he told her? She actively wanted him to fall in love with Lizy - right? - but she probably didn't think he actually would...hell, he didn't think he would, either. As for Loan, well...the deal didn't cover that. When Gwen first gave him permission to sleep with his aunts and sisters, she meant fucking sleep with them not catch feelings.

This was her fault, really. He would have been happy being with just her, but noooo, she liked to watch and participate, she wanted him to do it.

Sigh.

No, he didn't really think it was her fault, but still, man, he was in a bind. He glanced at Lizy and thought of Loan. He was certain now that he could do it - he could love a dozen girls - but would Gwen be okay with it? If she was, great, but if she wasn't, well...what the fuck was he going to do? Dump them? Dump her? Nah, man, he couldn't do that...especially to Gwen, she was...I'm trying to think of an analogy here...the foundation, you know? When he imagined not having her, it didn't matter if he had all of his aunts and sisters, he saw himself fucking collapsing. Gotta have the base, and Gwen was that base. His OTP 3

He'd have to talk to her...which made two important conversations he needed to have today. Easy like Sunday morning my ass.

Wait, wait...actually, he needed to have three conversations, because he hadn't even verbalized his feelings to Loan. Hell, he didn't even know what his feelings were.

He thought back to the love they made, to gazing into her eyes and holding her as their bodies moved in time, as their hearts pounded the same unsteady beat. It was beautiful, almost like a religious experience...but what if he was reading too much into it? What if...what if he was mistaken? You can have good, intimate sex and still not be in love with someone, right?

I mean...I love her, I know that, but am I actually in love with her? I think because, like I said, I get that same fluttery/stirring thing I get with Gwen (and now Lizy, I guess), but that's the emotional equivalent of an erection, and we all know you can get hard off a girl you don't love. When I think of my future, I see Gwen - I see us being together and having kids and doing the whole man and wife thing - but I don't see Loan, and right now, I don't see Lizy either.

That has to mean I'm not in love with them.

But maybe I'm in love with them in a different way.

I don't fucking know, man. This whole setup is mad confusing. Suffice it to say, I gotta talk to her. I also have to talk to Dad and to Gwen. I also -

"Good morning."

He looked down: Gwen stared up at him with dark eyes and a sly, sleepy smile. She kissed his chest and rubbed her hand in a circle over his stomach. He smiled back and stroked her hair. "Good morning," he said.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind," she said.

Lemy opened his mouth to lie, but stopped himself. He loved this girl, she deserved the truth. "I do."

Her hand faltered mid-rub and her eyes darted away as if anticipation of seeing something she didn't want to. "What?" she asked, her voice an apprehensive whisper. Lemy ran his fingers comfortingly through her hair and brushed his thumb across her eyebrow.

"I think I might be in love with Lizy," he said at length, the words coming hard and ponderous.

"Oh," Gwen said, an edge of relief in her voice, "well. I kind of -"

"And Loan."

Gwen made no outward sign that his words affected her, but the sudden tension in the room told him that they had. "I don't really know," he hastened to add, "but I...I'm kind of…"

He stopped when she looked up at him: Her expression was grave, and her eyes were gloomy.

"I don't care," she said, "just...don't stop loving me."

Lemy blinked. "I-I would never…"

Locking her gaze with his, she scooted up and cupped his cheek in her hand: Her stare was intense, unwavering. Her face hovered mere inches from his, her bow pinched in something like sadness. "I know I'm pathetic but please don't stop." Sudden tears spilled down her cheeks and her lips started to quiver. "Please don't throw me away."

How many words does it take to rip a man's heart from his chest?

Five.

Only five.

He took her face in his hands, tears in his own eyes now. "Gwen, I-I will never stop loving you," he vowed. She flicked her eyes away, and he turned her head so that he could see them. "I love you," he said, "and I swear to God that will never change. No matter what."

"That's easy to say now," she said sullenly.

"Yeah, it is, because I mean it," he replied. "You mean everything to me. If I lost you, my world would fall apart."

She sighed. "I worry sometimes," she said, "that you'll stop. Everyone else is so much better than me and…."

"They're not you," Lemy said earnestly, "and it doesn't matter if I have all of them if I don't have you, Gwen."

She looked into his eyes, and for a moment they gazed at each other, then Lemy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She stiffened at first, then relaxed and allowed him to press the side of her head to his chest. For a while he caressed her cheek and fought back his tears. She asked him not to throw her away.

Like she was garbage.

Hot rage filled his chest and if Gwen wasn't clinging to him right now, needing him, he'd go to her house and punch that asshole mother of hers in the face; it was her fault Gwen thought she was trash. Drunk fucking skank ass bitch. She beat Gwen down so fucking bad that she honestly thought she was worthless. You know what? Fuck that.

"I love you," he said. "I know you...you can't really trust me but...I do."

"Lemy, I do -"

"No you don't," Lemy said firmly. "But I don't blame you. I mean...look at your mom, and how she did you. If you can't trust your own mother, who can you trust?"

To be fair, he hadn't given her much of a reason to trust him. Knowing her...yeah, she felt like she had to share him with everyone, like...like maybe if she didn't, he'd ditch her because she wasn't good enough.

Well, you know what? She was.

"I'm done," he said, and glanced at Lizy; her eyes were still closed and her breathing was steady, rhythmic. "I'm not doing them anymore."

Gwen looked up at him, her brow furrowing.

"I love you and I want you," he said around a lump of emotion, "and I...I'm done with other girls."

"Lemy…"

"I mean it," he said firmly, "no more. No more Leia, no more Lola, no more anyone."

For a moment Gwen didn't speak. "If you love Lizy and Loan…"

"I'll worry about that," he said. How he'd 'worry' about it, he didn't know, but right now that didn't matter. The girl he loved was hurting and thought he was going to kick her aside - and she was right to think that way, because no matter how much a douche in a headband says he loves you, if he doesn't give you his whole heart...if he gives pieces of it to other girls...why the fuck would you believe him?

"I don't care if you love them too," Gwen said, "I just want you to love me…"

"I do," Lemy said, "and I'm gonna show you that by loving you." He looked at Lizy again. She was still asleep. What was he going to say to her? What was he going to do?

Gwen sighed and met his gaze; her eyes were tempest-tossed and conflicted. He saw hope, pain, fear, and other things. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "I'm not doing it anymore. I'm not."

"Lemy.."

"No."

An image of Loan, smiling and glowing in the afternoon sun, flashed through his mind, and the memory of last night with Lizy followed close; he felt a sharp twinge of loss, but ignored it.

Gwen stared up at him for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Alright, how about we make a deal?"

"What?" he asked.

She flicked her eyes to his chest, then up to his. "You can keep going...with Lizy and Loan...but not the others."

Lemy started to tell her no, but it was her turn to cut him off. "If you love them and they love you, that's fine. And if you want to show me that you love me, you won't have sex with anyone but the three of us."

He glanced at Lizy - she was smiling in her sleep, her arms still wrapped around his and her face snuggled against it. A stronger man would have said no...a better man would have told Gwen that he loved her and only her and that she just had to deal with it, but he wasn't a stronger man or a better one...he was weak. He couldn't turn Lizy and Loan away...not for his sake, but for theirs. The loss he felt when he told Gwen he wouldn't be with them anymore...that proved he loved them as more than sisters, and breaking up with them...if that's what it can be called...would hurt, but he could stand it for himself. He couldn't stand it to hurt them.

Sighing, he faced Gwen and looked into her eyes. "Okay," he said, and brushed her cheek. "I won't do anyone else." He paused. "And you have to make me a deal."

"What?"

He caressed her forehead. "Always remember that I love you, and stop thinking you're not good enough." He smiled wanly. "You're better than I deserve."

"Not really," she said gloomily.

"Yes, really," he replied. "I love you, Gwen, and you just have to deal with it."

She looked into his eyes...and smiled. "Okay," she said, "I'll try." She scooted up and kissed him. "I love you, Lemy," she said.

"I love you too," he replied. "Stop thinking I don't or I'm gonna have to spank you."

A beautiful pink blush spread across her face. "Really?" she asked. There was a challenge in her voice.

"Really."

She tilted her head and seemed to think for a moment - should I joke about him not loving me? It's kind of a serious topic, dudette. "I guess I better behave then," she finally said.

* * *

Sunday morning, Lupa Loud greeted dawn as she usually did: Sitting upright in bed and staring into the gloom, a cigarette smoldering between her fingers and a scowl on her face. If you saw her, you might think she was angry, but she wasn't: She had this syndrome called 'resting bitch face' that she couldn't get rid of no matter what she did. Some people are handsome, others ugly, and others...others look like they'd sooner rip your head off than look at you. She didn't mind her RBF; she wasn't what you'd call a people person, and if her naturally dour appearance pushed people away, great, no complaints here.

That might make her sound like a bitch, but she wasn't - at least she didn't think she was. Bitches delight in being cruel and hostile, she did not: That took too much energy and made her tired. Oh, she could be the biggest bastard you ever met, but she couldn't sustain it for long. You know what they say: The flame that burns the brightest goes out the fastest.

No, she didn't think she was a bitch, she just didn't like people - they were loud, rude, selfish, stupid, and had the irritating tendency to turn everything they touched to shit, like some kind of backwards King Midas. Look at any place where they congregate - social media, political parties, religions, fandoms - and if you don't see a bubbling cesspool, you're either blind, stupid, or part of the problem. Oh, there are good people, she wasn't dumb enough to think there weren't, but you had to dig for them, and you know what? They weren't worth the effort.

She was happy to be alone, then, or at least as happy as she could be; see...of all the people in the world she didn't like, she disliked Lupa Loud the most. Heh. Dislike. No, no...she hated herself. She hated the sound of her voice, she hated her snowy white hair and her tired eyes, she hated her face and her tiny breasts, and sometimes she hated the things she liked simply because she liked them.

Oh, and she hated her fucking mood swings. One minute she'd be high like a disco dancer on coke, then the next she'd be so low Garth Brooks wanted to be her friend. She thought she was bipolar, but she didn't know because she'd never been to the doctor. She should go, but the thought of her parents oh, poor Lupa, let's make a big fucking deal out of this drained her. Whatever, I'll deal with it myself.

The thing she hated most about herself was that she fucked her father.

At this point, you might think that's normal. Lincoln and his daughters have sex, what's the big?

Well, it's not normal. It's so fucking far from normal they might as well be on opposite sides of the galaxy. Maybe the others didn't realize this, but she did.

She also realized that while she wanted to stop, she couldn't.

Why?

Because sex is the physical manifestation of love, and she needed love because she didn't love herself. She was like a coffee mug with a crack in the bottom: Every time she was filled up, it all leaked back out. And no, she wasn't talking about fucking sperm, she was talking about love. She left her father's bed brimming with the stuff, but slowly, inevitably, it all drained out of her and she would have to go back for a refill. There was also the horniness inherent in being a Loud, but that was secondary for her. The feeling of being loved, and the temporary self love that it ignited, were her primary motivations.

Once upon a time, she was ashamed of this. Now she wasn't. It was just another thing.

While she hated herself and disliked most people, she loved her family - kind of strange, really, she personally didn't see how one can love anyone without first loving themselves, but this world doesn't make sense sometimes, does it? That's not to say everything was sunshine and lollipops, because it wasn't: Sometimes they got on her fucking nerves, and sometimes just the sight of them woke inexplicable anger in her heart, Leia especially. Oh, look at me, I'm pink and grilish and snooty. Ugh. She loved her little sister, but a lot of the time she didn't really like her.

She liked Lemy, though, and the more she thought of how they'd drifted apart, the more it bothered her.

I know what you're thinking, I wanna fuck him so we can 'bond' and I can feel 'loved.' Yeah, kind of, I guess, but...I kind of don't want that. Lemy and I have always had a normal relationship, and...I kind of want it to stay that way: I like that we can hang out and talk and be a regular brother and sister. I don't wanna ruin that...I don't want to pervert that. Nothing else is normal for me, and having that one thing, that rock, means more to me than maybe it should. Leia says you don't really know a guy until you've pillow talked with them after sex. Maybe she's right - and if she is, I don't wanna know Lemy that way. I just...I want one fucking shred of happy normalcy in my life, is that so much to ask, Lupa?

Yep. Have sex with him.

Sigh.

You're making excuses. Lure him in here and ride him like a rented scooter.

Maybe. It's not like I deserve a healthy relationship with him. I fuck my father, I've fucked my mother, I'm short-tempered, uncharitable, self-pitying...I don't deserve shit I want. I deserve to wallow in the filth of my life and then die.

She took a drag and let the smoke out in a broken cloud. The first faint rays of the sun crept across the wall and made narrow slats on the plaster. She liked mornings - they were quiet and there was a certain purity about them that appealed to her; the day was just beginning and hadn't yet been soiled, perhaps. She didn't deserve mornings; if she could, she'd go back to sleep and miss it, but her schedule was set, early to bed early to rise, and if she laid down now she'd just stare up at the ceiling, so...whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing does.

She took another puff and inhaled deeply.

I hate this glum, emo fucking monologuing too; woe unto me, woe! Yuck. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

So she sat there.

More light spread through the room, and birds began to sing.

Lacy stirred and muttered in her sleep.

Someone went into the bathroom and turned the shower on.

The cigarette burned down to the filter and stung Lupa's skin; she stubbed it out in the ashtray with nary a twitch.

She was still sitting there when Lacy rolled out of bed and went into the hall. Alone, she lit another cigarette and smoked it sparingly, as though it were her last, which, let's be honest it might be. She didn't feel like cutting her wrists again, but like Forrest Gump said, life is like a box of chocolates -you never know what you're going to get. If she did do it, she'd make damn sure she wouldn't have to do it again- no more half-hearted attempts or cutting for the rush, this time she'd mean business. Only, she didn't really want to die, she wanted...she wanted...I don't know. To be normal? To be whole and unbroken? To lose a couple dozen IQ points so she'd be dumb and happy like Leia or Liena? To be loved? To love herself?

Maybe.

And maybe not.

Change is scary, even if it's change for the better. Hell, especially if it's change for the better; we get so used to something that letting go is next to impossible.

If she were to change, where would she start?

Fucking her father?

Logical place, but she couldn't; she couldn't stop because she was a broken person and being with Dad was the fabled quick fix that kept her going. Oh, that's so sad. Maybe it is, but the vast majority of people on earth are the same exact way: They walk around with duct tape on their hearts and souls. Drug addictions, alcoholism, hobbies that act more as refuges, bullying others to make themselves feel better. Everyone hurts, not just Lupa Loud. She wasn't special, she didn't have it any worse than anyone else; she was just another ant on her little ant errands and living her little ant life. Nothing more, nothing less.

She stabbed the cigarette out and got up. In the hallway, Luan, Lynn, Lyra, Lana, and Leia waited in front of the bathroom door. She fell in behind Leia and crossed her arms over her chest. Unlike some of her siblings, and aunts, she didn't mind waiting: She had nothing but time. Everyone else had somewhere to be, something to do, but it's all just killing time; we rush around like chickens with their heads cut off just to fill our days. You know why? Because even the dumbest among us, alone with their thoughts, begin to suspect that maybe their little projects and sports teams aren't that important after all, and once that first domino falls, it's game over.

Poor Lupa, her worldview is so warped and cynical. No, it's not. Scientific studies have found that intelligent people are more susceptible to depression. They cook up bullshit excuses about overthinking, but it's really because when you see the world for what it is, it depresses the fuck out of you. And what is the world, you might ask? A sewer. A fucking open sewer.

You can adapt to that like she had, but don't expect to be happy go lucky about it.

The bathroom door opened and Leni came out, her eyes crossed and a dopey little smile on her face. There but for the disfavor of God go I. She'd always envied Leni and her lack of self-awareness. No wonder she was always upbeat. I'd be upbeat too if I was practically retarded.

She scrunched her lips to the side. Actually, I'd rather be me.

As much as I suck.

* * *

Lemy ate breakfast surrounded by his harem - Loan on his right, Lizy on his left, and Gwen in his lap. Lizy kept looking at him and beaming, Gwen rubbed her butt against his crotch in a way that may-have-been-accidental-but-totally-wasn't, and Loan stole sidelong glances at him and smiled slyly.

What have I gotten myself into?

No one seemed to notice or care if they did. No one except for Leia, that is: Lemy caught her sneaking thoughtful looks at him, Lizy, and Loan - she knew about Gwen, obviously, but not about the others. Not that it was any of her business.

When he wasn't looking at one of his sisters (or the back of Gwen's head), Lemy watched his father: Old man Loud sat between Lucy and Mom and ate his toast and eggs without a care in the world. Just looking at him made Lemy angry.

You guys know my beef with him, so I'm not going to waste words on going through it all again.

Wait.

That's exactly what I'm going to do. Loan feels isolated and like trash, a condition that is exacerbated by the loveless, lip-service sex he throws at her feet. Dude...she fucking cried after I was with her. She said I've never felt so loved. That's sad, isn't it? I think it is, because I was once where she is, I felt like garbage, I didn't feel loved or wanted. I was on and on about sex but I know for a fact that if I got what Dad's been giving her, I'd feel even worse. She's obviously not into it...but why would she be? I'm ugly, smelly, can't satisfy her, and generally suck. Loan doesn't deserve that...man, no one deserves that.

Not even Juicy.

He shuddered.

Gwen looked over her shoulder. "You alright, Freak?"

"I'm good," he said, "I just thought of something repulsive."

"Loan's underwear?" Lacy asked from across the table. Lemy winced. Really, Lace? What the fuck?

Loan's face darkened. "Your jockstrap."

"Lyra's music," Leia said, and Lyra flipped her off.

Down the table, Lori took a sip of her coffee. "Lupa smoking in the house."

The white haired girl made absolutely no sign that she heard.

"Luan's comedy," Lynn said with a devious smirk. Luan glared.

God, what have I done?

"Dad trying to dance," Liby said, and half of the table erupted in raucous laughter.

The way Dad's been doing Loan, Lemy thought but didn't say.

"Alright, girls, that's enough," Dad said, "you can roast each other - and me - after breakfast."

After sobering up from their laff riot, everyone went back to their meal except for Lupa, who stood, grabbed her plate, and carried it into the kitchen with a disgusted sigh. She thought traditional Loud House morning roasts were 'inane' - not that that stopped her from partaking here and there. In all fairness, he thought they were dumb too until he had a zinger. When she came back through on her way to her room, he caught a glimpse of her face and frowned: She looked pissed. More pissed than usual, that is.

Maybe he should talk to her too, see if she was okay; she got depressed a lot. She didn't like talking about it so she'd just push him away, though. They were close, but there are some things you don't talk about with even your BFF...like how isolated and virginal you are.

Gwen finished and got up, making sure to scrape her butt against his half-chub, turning it into a full-chub. Lizy and Loan both looked at the resulting tent and smiled; they looked so much alike in that moment it was scary. "You wanna play a game?" Loan asked.

"With me?" Lizy added.

Loan's brows knitted, and Lemy tensed. Oh, God, here it goes. "I'm talking about a different game. One for grown-ups."

Everyone was looking at them, and Lemy slouched down in his chair.

"Like the one we played last night?" Lizy asked, and Lemy's face burned.

Down the the table, Lana choked on her food, and Lola pounded her on the back. "I thought she'd wait," Lana coughed.

Loan glared at the younger girl. "I play it better."

Dad looked from one to the other like a man watching a tennis ball being hit back and forth. Lemy felt like a tennis ball being hit back and forth.

"I smell better."

Loan sneered.

"Alright, knock it off," Dad said firmly, "there's plenty of your brother to go around. Isn't there, Lemy?" He lifted his brow. Isn't there?

"Yeah," Lemy said and looked from Lizy to Loan, "just...I'll hang with both of you later. First I have to talk to Dad." He glanced at his father; the old man didn't seem surprised. He probably thought he was coming to him for advice on managing a harem. Sorry, buddy, but -

Actually, that's a good idea.

Fuck, now I can't go hard on him.

Loan and Lizy both sighed and looked away from each other, content that they would each get a turn - for now.

When breakfast was over, the others scattered to the wind and Dad and Lori went into the kitchen to do the dishes. Should he go in there and talk to both of them? Loan's problems didn't stem from just Dad alone, after all, her mother was a source of vexation too.

Nah, Loan had to be the one to do that. The issues she had with Lori were a little deeper than being deadfished in the bedroom.

Crossing his arms, he settled in for a long wait.

Twenty minutes later, Lori came out of the kitchen and went into the living room. Dad came behind, drying his hands on a dish towel. Without being asked or reminded, he dropped into the chair across from Lemy, tossed the rag onto the table, and rested his forearms on the edge. "So," he said with a smug little smile, "it begins."

There was a mocking inflection in his voice that Lemy didn't like. At least he thought there was. "Yeah," he allowed, "it begins."

"I've seen the way Loan's been looking at you lately, and from what I hear, Lizy's head over heels for you."

Lemy briefly wondered where he heard that, but shoved it aside. "Yeah, I think both of them are...are into me."

"Are you into them?" Dad asked pointedly.

The question caught Lemy off guard, and he had to think about it for a second. Was he? He certainly thought so, then again, he wasn't 100 percent sure how he felt. He loved Loan and enjoyed being with her - both intimately and otherwise - and he had a much better time with Lizy than he thought he would, and his feelings were much deeper than he expected them to be.

"Yeah," he finally said "I'm into them."

Dad regarded him for a moment then sighed. "Alright, well, I know it can be a little confusing...the feelings you have for your sisters. When it was me, I honestly couldn't tell where I stood. I mean, I loved them all, but...I loved them in different ways and for different reasons. Still do, in fact."

"I feel that," Lemy admitted.

"It's natural," Dad said, "love takes many different forms and feels differently in each case. What I feel for your mother and what I feel for Lori aren't the same, but they're both love." He paused to let that sink in a moment. "With Lori it's a warm, comfortable thing...and with your mother it's fiery and passionate."

Okay...bro...first thing, I really don't wanna know how fiery and passionate you are with Mom, and two...you give good advice, you really do, but you're so long winded. Jesus H. You can ask this guy one question, and he'll just keep going and going and going. Third...I agree with you one hundred percent. What I feel for Gwen isn't exactly what I feel for Lizy, and what I feel for Loan is...well, it's similar but not wholly the same.

So…I don't love them the same but I do love them the same, like...Dad loves Lori and Mom in two different ways, but he still loves them period.

Like the Dan Baird song.

Sorry, I had to get that out of my system.

"I was kind of struggling," Lemy said, "to, you know, figure out if I was in love with them, but...I think I am."

"Who exactly? Just Loan, Lizy, and Gwen?"

Lemy nodded. "Yeah. I'm actually...I-I'm not messing with the others anymore." For some reason he couldn't name, he felt a rush of embarrassment at this.

His father noticed. "There's nothing wrong with that. I was hoping all of your sisters would eventually wind up with you, but I don't think that's going to happen. Liby and Lacy seem happy, and Liena's been talking about marrying someone...so…' he shrugged.

Yeah, no, that's not going to happen, you're right.

"I imagined some of them winding up with you," Dad continued. "Being as great a guy as you are, it was inevitable. I knew one was going to be Lizy. You two have always been close, and you're a good brother; I was certain she'd eventually fall in love with you. I honestly didn't think Loan would."

Ah, and there we are. "Actually," Lemy said, "that's the reason I wanted to talk to you."

"Loan?" Dad asked.

Lemy nodded. "Yep. She, uh…" he trailed off. Now that he was here, face-to-face with his old man, all of the things he planned to say escaped him and his mind went blank. He rubbed the back of hs neck and tried to articulate himself. This always happens to me. I can speak eloquently in my head (I know, not often), but as soon as I open my mouth it's like a train jumping the tracks. He's looking at me funny now; I gotta say something. "She-She...she said when you have sex with her you're a dead fish. You just do your thing and get out."

Dad flinched, whether at the implicit accusation or in embarrassment that Loan talked to him about their sex life Lemy couldn't say, though he suspected the latter. "Well…" he floundered, "I suppose that's true -"

"Why?" Lemy demanded, his father's confession raking the embers of his anger. "Why do you do that to her? Do you have any idea how badly that hurts her? I mean, she's fragile, she needs love and affection, not someone drilling her then walking away. "

Dad opened his mouth, but Lemy cut him off. "Our first time, I made love to her, and you know what she did afterward? She cried. She said she never felt so loved in her life and that when you do her, you don't even kiss her. Man, that might not be important to you, but to people like me and her, it means everything. The intimacy is...fucking...vital." He was trembling with rage now, his face hot and his teeth clenched. Right now, at this table, he was drowning in the darkness and isolation he suffered last year, the way a vet goes back to Vietnam when they get triggered by Night Court or something. All of that pain and self-loathing, always in him but locked away, was bubbling to the surface, and he realized, vaguely, that if he didn't get a hold of himself, he would take off like a rocket. He drew a deep breath and fought it back down, shoved it into its box and forced the lid. "It's fucked up," he said, his voice unsteady.

Across from him, Dad sighed deeply. "I didn't know it bothered her so much," he said. "She never told me and I never...never saw any evidence -"

"So you're blind?"

Dad's eyes narrowed slightly. "No. I'm not a mind reader, Lemy. I can read people but not someone inscrutable like Loan or Lupa, or even Lucy. I didn't know."

"Why do you do her that way, though?" Lemy asked. "I mean, with the others you -"

"Do the same."

Lemy faltered. What? Alright, I might look dumb in my headband, but I'm really not. "That's a lie. I've seen you going at it with Lyra and Lupa a thousand times."

"Have you ever seen me kiss them on the lips?" Dad asked.

"Yes!"

"With tongue?"

Lemy opened his mouth to reply that he had, but stopped. Had he? He never stood there and watched, but, yeah, he'd seen him with his face in Lyra's neck like he was kissing her...though he didn't think he'd ever actually seen said kisses. To be fair.

He said as much, and Dad rolled his eyes. "What do you expect me to do with my head, Lemy? Take it off and set it aside until I'm done like it's a hat? I gotta put my face somewhere, and, yeah, it's usually the neck. Where I can't see what I'm doing."

What?

Dad saw the confusion on his face and nodded slowly, bleakly. "Do you know how hard it is for me to have sex with my own daughters?"

"No," Lemy blurted. "I've seen you fuck them a million times. I've seen you initiate it a million times."

Dad sighed and hung his head. "I know."

Lemy spread his arms. "T-Then what's up? I mean, if you don't like it…"

"Like you didn't like it with Lizy?"

Lemy froze.

Dad looked up at him and nodded. "She wanted it, you gave in, and you enjoyed it. That's where I was with each one of your sisters. They came to me and I caved because I'm weak. Whatever Lisa did...I was weak before that. They all want me and I give in and I…" he looked away. "I like it. I like the feeling of how wrong it is. I-It's exciting...to me. And even feeling like a piece of shit afterwards." He barked a dry, humorless laugh. "But I can't bring myself to...do certain things. I know it doesn't make sense, but they're my daughters, I can't kiss their necks and eat their pussies. I do...eat them...but only if they ask or if...like with Leia...I don't fit."

Jesus fuck. This dude's sicker than I am. He started to ask how he could do it, but then he remembered Lizy, and the time they spent together the night before. It worked on kind of the same principle, only he actually enjoyed it. Dad didn't, at least...not the way he did. As he made love to her, he looked into her eyes and drank in her face the way a fag drinks fancy wine. He fucking reveled in her.

"So...it's just sex to you?"

He didn't mean it to, but it came out as an accusation.

Dad hesitated, then nodded. "With my daughters, yes."

He was right...it didn't make sense...but who the fuck was he to judge? He was worse. He sighed and slumped back in his chair. He couldn't deny it, though; despite everything, he took to Lizy like a natural and right now, he felt shame and regret...but not fucking much.

"It's different with you and Lizy," Dad said, "you're her big brother, but you're not her father. There is a difference. A big difference."

Lemy wiped his hand thoughtfully across his mouth. "It doesn't feel like it. It doesn't feel like it should."

"It's different," Dad affirmed, "you didn't produce her. Don't beat yourself up. There's nothing wrong with what you did. Me...there's a lot wrong with what I do, but...that's how it goes."

It was Lemy's turn to laugh humorlessly. Hell of an explanation, Dad. "Look, I get it...kind of...but they need more than a fucking pump and dump. Loan does. She thinks you're repulsed by her or something."

Dad winced.

"She needs you to show her love, and you know just as well as I do that around here that means sex...and not dead fish sex, either."

For a long time, Dad stared down at his hands, his eyes leaden, his face pinched in thought. Finally, he looked up. "You're right," he said. "I should have known that Loan needed extra attention. I just…" he sighed. "I'm gonna make it right."

"Good," Lemy said. "Do it soon." He thought for a second. "But not now. I have to talk to her about something…"

* * *

Gwen glanced up from her phone as Lizy bounced into the room, her ponytail swishing jauntily and a happy hum on her lips. She was carrying something in her arms.

Stacks of clothes.

Uh…

She went to the dresser, opened one of the drawers, and started to put them away. Gwen watched with a mixture of curiosity and horror - was she moving in?

Honestly, she thought that this might happen - she was in love with Lemy much like Gwen herself - but she couldn't say she expected it so soon. She anticipated a little bit of breathing room. Apparently not, though, because Lizy was definitely putting her clothes into hers and Lemy's dresser.

The older girl frowned a little, not sure how she should feel. On the one hand, having Lizy around wouldn't be so bad, but on the other...she really enjoyed having a room for just her and Lemy, where they could shut out the world and be alone. In fact, while she was not quite comfortable calling this her house, she was okay calling this her room. Now it looked like it was hers, Lemy's, and Lizy's.

She watched Lizy stow her clothes and wondered if she should say something. "Hey, Lizy," she said after a moment of indecision, "what'cha doing?" Her voice was halting.

"Putting my stuff away," Lizy piped.

Oh. I hadn't noticed. She started to speak again, but Lizy was already skipping out the door. For a few beats, Gwen stared after her, then glanced absently at her phone screen: She was texting with Marsha, but suddenly her friend's boy problems didn't seem so important.

She really, really, really liked having her and Lemy time, and right now loss clutched her chest like jagged graveyard fingers. Again, she kinda sorta thought Lizy might do this, but the idea was still new and she hadn't gotten used to it yet: It was like being shoved into cold water instead of easing yourself in and slowly adjusting. Some people said the former was the way to go, but she preferred the latter - it was less of a shock to the system.

Like having your sanctum invaded by a three foot tall blonde girl.

Lizy loved Lemy as much as she did, though, and he loved her too, so what could she do? Make a fuss? She could see Lizy's heartbreaking now, and it made her heart break; she couldn't do that.

God, I'm such a cuck. He's going to get everyone pregnant but me and I'm going to wind up raising his children while desperately wanting one of my own but never having it; then I'll turn into a drunk and die sad and miserable.

A twinge of anxiety pinched her chest and the air left her lungs in a rush. Oh, that sounded awful.

Horrible, terrible possible future aside, Lizy was here to stay and she would just have to get used to it. And so would Lizy, come to think of it: She was in the same boat, the SS There's-Another-Girl-Here, and Gwen might be kind of a cuck, but she was not going to go in a corner while Lizy hogged Lemy to herself. They would have to come up with a schedule or something so it wasn't complete chaos.

Sigh.

That sounded fantastic.

^ Sarcasm.

Lizy came back with another armful of things, a spring in her step: Toys, model cars, a plastic Titanic, her prized T-Rex that she sent tumbling down the stairs even to this day despite Lemy's warnings not to. She dumped the load onto the dresser, spun, and left again. What's next, her bed?

Actually, Gwen wouldn't mind that.

When the little girl came back, though, she was carrying a backpack in one hand and a hamper full of the clothes in the other. She sat both by the foot of the bed and then dropped on, her arms flying out on either side like she was making a snow angel. She took a deep breath and turned her head to Gwen, a big smile on her face. "Thank you for helping me," she said.

Gwen wasn't expecting that. "You're welcome," she said. "I know how it feels to be in love with someone and...have to work to win them over."

Lizy's brows furrowed. "Who did you have to win over?"

"Lemy."

It wasn't until that single word left her lips that Gwen realized just how much she and her new roommate had in common: Both of them fell in love with Lemy...and in the beginning, he loved neither of them back. Both went to extreme measures to get him to love them, and both ultimately succeeded despite the presence of another girl in his heart: For Gwen it was Lyra, and for Lizy it was Gwen. In an instant, she saw so much of herself in the little girl that it was staggering.

Heck, you could even argue that she was moving into a new place just like Gwen herself did.

"You have to win Lemy over?" Lizy asked as though the thought boggled her mind. "Why? You're pretty and smart and nice...you're, like, the whole deal."

Gwen was shocked into a laugh and her cheeks turned red. "Thanks, but I'm not that great."

"You're better than Leia," Lizy said, "she's a bitch sometimes. You're never a bitch."

Gwen's mind went back to the conversation with Leia on the porch the other day. "Leia cares about you," she said, "she just...she doesn't show it right sometimes. She really wanted you to make Lemy like you so you'd be happy, which is why she was such a bitch about your training."

Lizy seemed to consider that for a moment. "I guess," she said, "but she's still a bitch even if she means well."

That...was not untrue, and Lizy's insight surprised her. "She loves you, though, and that has to count for something."

"Yeah," Lizy said thoughtful, "it does. Still, you care about be and you're not a bitch. Why can't she be like that too?"

Shame rose in Gwen's chest like bile - wasn't she just being bitchy about Lizy being here? Not out loud, but that didn't make it any better. You care about me and you're not a bitch. Sigh, yes I am, Liz...I'm an insecure bitch with low self-esteem who, deep down, can't believe that Lemy actually loves me, that anyone would love me, and if I'm not careful, I'm going to drive Lemy away. I'll drive everyone away.

No use in thinking like that, though. It'll only make things worse.

Think about Leia instead; she's the topic at hand. Leia could be...temperamental...and bossy...and overbearing...and rude...and selfish...and a lot of things, but she was a good friend and Gwen loved her. "That's just how she is," she said. "Some people can be difficult to deal with sometimes, but they're usually worth it. Leia's one of them."

Lizy shrugged. "Yeah, you're right." She turned her head to Gwen and smiled. "Now that we're roommates, we can do all sorts of fun stuff. Do you like models? I have a bitchin' Trans Am I've been wanting to work on forever…"

* * *

Lemy stood outside Loan's door and practiced what he was going to say, even though he knew damn well he'd botch it when they came face-to-face. Loan, what we shared the other day was incredible, and I feel very strongly for you *Brushes hair from her cheek and stares deeply into her eyes* If you don't feel the same way, I'll understand, and I'll be perfectly content being brother and sister...or siblings with benefits...or anything you want. I care about you and I'm here for you no matter what.

Shivers, brah, shivers; The Lifetime Movie Network would run that shit twenty times a day.

Yeah, but it'd probably come out like uhhh, I, like, ya know, really, ya know, care about you, bro, and I wanna be your, uh, ya know, brah and stuff.

Okay, it wouldn't be that bad, but it sure as hell wouldn't be what it could be, what it should be.

Before I do this, though, is that really what I want to say? I love you but if you don't love me back we can still be brother and sister? A better question would be: What do I really want from this talk? Do I want her to pledge her life to me the way her mother did to Dad? Do I want her to just know my feelings? Dad said you feel different types of love for different girls, and for Loan it's more tenderness than fiery passion (like Dad feels for Mom, ugh). I don't feel obsessive over her like one of those gay ass romantic poetes - you consume my eve'y thought in waking fire and fill me with burning desire - I feel more like...what was it Dad said about Lori? That she was comfortable or cozy or some shit? I guess what I feel for Loan is more akin to that.

Hmmm...I dunno, man, I feel like I'm overthinking this, but I'd rather that than underthink it because it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. That's to say: I'd rather go in there mentally prepared for anything and know exactly where I stand. I just…

You know what?

He knocked.

There.

"Yeah?" Loan's voice was hesitant; people didn't often knock on her door, and when they did it usually meant something was wrong and she was going to get bitched out.

"It's me," he called back, and resisted the urge to add his name. No shit, Sherlock, she's knows it's you; the only other man in this house doesn't sound like a reedy ass thirteen year old boy, so that kind of narrows it down.

"Come in."

He turned the handle, slipped in, and closed the door behind him.

Loan was sitting at her desktop flanking the bed, a pair of headphones around her neck and her hand resting on the mouse. She wore a blue and gray sweater and white socks tucked into the cuffs of her gray sweatpants. A sea of empty Mountain Dew bottles, empty Monster cans, and a half full two liter of Pepsi flooded the the desk, a few strays lying on the matted carpet at her feet.

Given her...issues...Loan was not and had never been expected to share a room: He, her, and Liena were the only ones with their own space, though every once in a while there would be an argument and someone would wind up staying with Liena.

Being the sole occupant, Loan felt no pressure to keep the place clean, though she surprisingly didn't leave it a total apocalyptic pigsty either. There were dirty plates on the nightstand, dirty clothes heaped at the foot of the bed, and trash here and there on the floor, but that was it: No food splatters on the wall, no half eaten Big Macs moldering in the corners, no piles of old, piss soaked newspapers - it looked like a slob lived here, not one of those assholes from Hoarders. And if you don't know how surprising that iis, nigga, you never seen how she did the living room.

"Hey," she said with a happy inflection; her face glowed and her eyes twinkled, which made Lemy's heart double over like a gunshot victim...but in a good way.

"Hey," he said and went over. He wasn't sure if he should go in for a kiss or not, then said fuck it. He leaned over and she met him half way with her lips; locking her eyes with his, she flicked her tongue out and lashed his bottom lip. He darted his out and curled it against hers; for a moment they grappled back and forth like two thumb wrestlers, then they tilted their heads and kissed deeply, his hand cupping the back of her neck and both of hers gripping his waist.

When he pulled back, they smiled at each other, and Loan licked her lips as if to catch the taste of his mouth; her eyes were hazed and half-lidded, and her smile got wider as she scanned his face and (presumably) saw the love and affection thereon (is that even a word?). "Hi," she said giggled.

"We already went through this," Lemy grinned and pressed his forehead to hers. Her smell filled his nose and he took a deep breath, relishing it. She looked up into his eyes and circled her arms around his hips, and the warm closeness of her body sent his heart slamming even faster than it already was.

Pretty strong circumstantial evidence for you loving her.

I never denied that I did, I just -

The defense rests.

Okay.

"I like saying hi to you," she said and smirked. "Is that alright?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed; she turned in her chair and kicked her feet up onto his lap. He wrapped his hand around one and rubbed his thumb absently into her sole. "I need to talk to you," he said.

"What about?" she asked easily and slouched down a little bit; a look of bliss crossed her face and it was easy to imagine she was melting under his touch.

Alright. Here it goes. "I really…"

Her eyes were crystal blue, like clear pools, and her iris was streaked with green. Lemy didn't know if that was normal, but it was beautiful, and his chest constricted.

Maybe I have no game whatsoever, but looking into a woman's eyes and telling her you love her, baring your soul to her and peering deep into her soul, is the hardest motherfucking thing ever. I don't think it was hard with Gwen, though - with her it felt so right and natural, like taking a breath, that I didn't even think twice about it. Or maybe I did. Who knows?

"What?" Loan asked through a smile.

They used to say Chuck Norris's tears cure cancer - too bad he didn't cry. Loan didn't often smile, which was good because when she did, it was as infectious as the Superflu. Lemy grinned and bowed his head. "I love you," he blurted.

She giggled. "I love you too."

He looked up. "Like...I think I'm in love with you."

"I think I am too," she said. "With you."

That admission stabbed him in the guts like a broadsword glowing orange with heat - in a good way, though; a happy laugh escaped his throat and he looked away from Loan's blushing face.

Now comes the tricky part.

"You know I...I love Gwen too, right? And Lizy?"

She nodded. "I kind of figured."

"You're okay with that?" he asked hopefully.

She shrugged. "Whatever." She seemed to think a moment, then added. "I'll be upfront with you, I love it when you hold me and stuff, but I like my space, and...I kind of like to sleep alone. So you're good there. Just…" she trailed off and looked away as if embarrassed. "Be there for me."

"I will," he vowed and kneaded her foot

She smiled. "Good." She glanced over her shoulder; on the computer screen, a third person view showed a man in armor standing in a stone walled passageway lit by the feeble glow of torch light. "You can watch if you want, but I really need to get back in there. Gabi needs me."

Gabi was an online friend of Loan's, and the moderator of her Discord server. She was a huge geek like Loan apparently, and lived in Royal Woods, by some fucking astronomical chance. They'd known each other for almost a year and hadn't even met in person.

"I kind of need to talk to Lizy," Lemy said. "If you don't need me."

Loan spun to face the computer. "Nah, you're fine. I just wanna cuddle later." She threw him a sexy glance. "And fuck."

"Alright," Lemy grinned and got to his feet, "we can do that."

In the hall, he shut the door and leaned against it. Whew. That was ridiculously easy. I figured she'd want her space (though she does have the potential to be clingy, I think), but I didn't think she'd be like yeah, whatever, I won't be a problem. I could have sworn there was gonna be drama inbound -

"Oh, Lemy…"

Lemy glanced up to see Leia poking her head out her door, a sly smile on her pink lips. "Can you come here for a minute? I need your help."

Ooooh.

What kind of help? Because there are certain things I can't help you with anymore. "With what?" he asked.

She lidded her eyes. "Come here and see."

Yep. She wanted that kind of help

Perfect. This was a yet another conversation I wasn't particularly looking forward to. Out of all my sisters, I sleep with Leia the most, and a good eight times out of ten, she initiates it. That tells me that she really likes it. Of course, Dad can't fit so she's gonna come to me. I'm not really stressing on telling everyone else that I'm a three girl man now, but Leia...yeah, I'm sweating that.

Pushing away from the door, he went over and she grinned.

This wasn't going to be easy. "I have to talk to you about something."

She stepped into his arms and pressed her body against his, her hands going to his shoulders. "We can talk later," she said and kissed the corner of his mouth, breathing faster. "When you're done helping me." She moved her palms down over his chest, and Shocky twitched to life because Shocky was a mindless cheating bastard who didn't care as long as he got wet.

Lemy put his hands on Leia's shoulders and gently but firmly pushed her back. Her brow furrowed deeply. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

She looked mad.

And a little disappointed.

"I can't have sex with you anymore," he said.

For a moment she didn't seem to register his words, then they hit and the expression on her face was one of a woman who'd just been slapped. "What?" she asked.

"I can't anymore," he said, looking away from the tempest in her eyes. "Gwen and I talked, and she's afraid I'm going to dump her or something, and I decided that, you know, to show how much I love her...I'm only going to be with her. And Lizy and Loan but those are special cases."

Leia's jaw dropped, then clenched, her eyes flashing red with anger. "So Gwen's making you stop," she said, her voice hard and cold.

"No!" he said quickly. "I just told you, I made the decision. She didn't want me to and -"

"And you're gonna keep fucking Lizy and Loan." Her face was scarlet now and her lips screwed up. "I'm not good enough for you anymore?"

Lemy sighed. "No," he said, "listen...I'm only with them because they caught feelings and…"

His words cut off when Leia shoved him roughly back, her face dark. "Fuck you," she snarled.

"Leia…"

She slapped him, her palm cracking across his face like a whip and sending his head to one side; hot, stinging agony filled the world and tears of pain welled in his eyes. Leia was an abstract blur as she drew back into her room like a trapdoor spider and slammed the door; the sound echoed through the house like thunder.

For a moment, Lemy just stood there in shock. He didn't think it would be easy breaking the news to Leia, but he didn't expect that. She hit hard too, like she meant it. I'm not good enough for you anymore? Leave it to her to take it that way.

He rubbed the side of his face and winced.

She wasn't just mad, she was hurt, you could see it in her eyes.

Damn it.

Now I have guilt.

When she calms down a little I'll try to talk to her; for now I think I need to lie down, my fucking head is spinning. GIrl should take up boxing, she'd be the best in her division. Or maybe I'm just a bitch who can't take a lump.

Shaking his head, he went to his room and opened the door, stumbling back as gay ass pop music washed over him, all piano and falsetto vocals.

Cities come and cities go just like the old empires

When all you do is change your clothes and call that versatile

You got so many colors make a blind man so confused

Then why can't I keep up when you're the only thing I lose?

Dude singing sounded like one of the Gibbs. Guess Leia killed me and now I'm in hell.

Gwen and Lizy were on the bed, the former sitting on her knees and the latter Indian style: Plastic pieces were scattered before them. Gwen held the frame of a toy car in her hand; she nudged the front end against Lizy's knee and made an explosion noise with her mouth. Both giggled. "There's no fuel tank, Gwen," Lizy said patiently, "it can't blow up."

You got so many colors make a blind man so confused

Then why can't I keep up when you're the only thing I lose?

"It's a Michael Bay movie," Gwen said, "everything blows up." She glanced at Lemy and smiled. "Hey, Freak."

Lizy whipped around and her face lit up. "Hi, Lem!"

"What are you guys doing?" he asked and came into the room.

"Building a model," Lizy said. "Wanna help?"

So I'll just pretend that I know which way to bend

And I'm gonna tell the whole world that you're mine

His eyes went to the dresser: Lizy's T-Rex stared back at him, its tooth filled maw open and frozen as if in a hearty greeting. One of the drawers was open, and he he caught a glimpse of clothing that didn't belong to him...or Gwen. He looked at them, Lizy's smile was wide and beaming, Gwen's was subdued and amused. He flicked his eyes to Lizy. What's up with this? Gwen shrugged. She's moving in.

Oh. Alright.

I guess.

Just please understand when I see you clap your hands

If you stick around I'm sure that you'll be fine

"Sure," he said. He crossed to the bed and sat. "What are we working on?"

Lizy crawled into his lap and situated herself, back pressed to his chest, head resting against his shoulder; she looked like a little girl in a big, comfy chair. "'77 Trans Am," she said. "The king of all muscle cars." She held her hand out, and Gwen gave her the frame. "You're just in time to help us install the engine block."

Lemy chuckled and slipped one arm around her stomach, then kissed the top of her head. "Sounds rad. Let's do it."

He looked at at Gwen, and her smile faltered. "Why is there a handprint on your face?" There was a hint of concern in her voice.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

I'll do enough of that for the four of us.


	13. Last Chapter Y'all (Not Really lol XD)

Sleep is a great mind wiper - things kicking around your skull before you drift off have a way of not being there in the morning. You might have a great idea for a poem or a fan fic while you're laying in bed (incest, but different this time), then after you wake up, you're all...nigga wat? I can't remember that bitchin' idea for the life of me. That's how Lemy was, of course his brain had been accused of being low wattage for years, so maybe he wasn't the bronze standard. He slipped out from between his girlfriends, staggered into the hall, and fell in line behind Leia, who wore a pink night dress that clung tightly to her butt. People are deeper than what they seem on the surface (just like he was more than a loser and a punchline), but that didn't mean they didn't do things you'd expect them to, ya know? Like him - you'd expect him to listen to metal and smoke weed if you saw him, and he did. You'd expect Leia to have a closet full of shoes and a bunch of different nightgowns, and she did. This one was his favorite, and she only wore it when she wanted to ride the L train (the L stands for Lemy, btw).

Since he had a raging case of morning wood, he figured what the hell. He pressed his bulge to her butt and cupped her hips in his hands, his lips grazing her neck. Her scent filled his nose and penetrated the fog in his brain - he realized in a flash that he couldn't fuck her (whoops, force of habit), and remembered that she was mad at him...but not until she spun in a swish of blonde pigtails and shoved him away. "Don't touch me," she hissed, her eyes narrowing in hatred.

Yesterday, Gwen said she was afraid he would stop loving her, and that it kind of bothered her that he was fucking every girl in the house...well, she didn't necessarily say that it bothered her, and she didn't really ask him to stop, but he knew him porking his aunts and sisters was hurting her, so he made the executive decision to stop. Except for Lizy and Loan, they were grandfathered in because feelings. Lemy kind of figured Leia wouldn't like that - the him not fucking her part - but she took it a little harder than he thought she would. She even slapped the piss out of him.

Looking at her now, face screwed up in rage, her soft eyes pooled with leaden loathing, Lemy's heart doubled over on itself. One, because she was mad at him, and two because she was mad period. He didn't always show it since their relationship was kind of...sex only...but he loved her and cared about her. She was his first, and he'd been with her more times than he could count - they cuddled and talked after sex and, he thought, drew a little closer together (how can you not under those circumstances?).

All that to say: He felt really shitty.

"Leia, I'm sorry a -"

She sneered and turned around, one of her pigtails slapping his face indignantly. She crossed her arms and cocked her hip - talk to the back, headband, cuz the face doesn't wanna hear it. Lemy sighed and threw his head back. Great. Just what I needed in my life, more drama. Look, don't think I'm as dumb as I appear. I'm playing with fire when it comes to this harem shit - all it takes is one girl deciding she doesn't wanna share, and bam, I'm in the middle of capital fucking D drama. Gwen already thinks I don't really love her, or is worried that I'll stop, and Loan...well, I can see her giving me grief, not yet sure how, though; man, it's early and I just woke up, don't expect me to be one hundred percent. The fact of the matter, however, is this: I'm already walking a very fine line, and that shit's been hanging over my head like a storm cloud for a minute now. Add Leia being mad and there's your perfect shit sandwich.

Heh. Like in This Is Spinal Tap. They had -

I'm getting off track, I know, that's how I cope. Gotta look away from the sun every once in a while or you go blind. Anyway, Leia's pissed at me and from the way she's acting, sitting her down and talking to her like two adults isn't going to happen. On the bright side, she's pretty predictable - she'll be bitchy for a little while, then when she's ready to get serious, she'll come to me and talk.

You know, what we have, her and I, it's...I mean...I can see why she's upset. To be honest, when I told Gwen nah, nigga, I'm done fuckin other girls, I instantly thought of Leia, and there was this little twinge of loss in my chest. I like having sex with her, and I like hanging out afterwards and talking. She's a lot like Loan, she's got this bitchy facade, but when you prove yourself worthy of being let it, she's actually sweet and tender. I like seeing her inner self, you know, the face beneath the mask. And I like her, she's fucking hot as hell and…

Whatever, by this point you know how I roll (unless you've been skimming, in which case how does it feel to miss pertinent information?). The long and short of it is: She's pissed and I feel rotten.

Like . Man, one time I saw this -

The bathroom door opened and Leni came out, her ample hips and breasts clad in an aquamarine nightdress with frilly white trim. Her nipples made tents against the fabric, which wasn't surprising, since it was cold as fuck in here: His nipples were hard too. Her hands were held up and curved at the wrist, hanging limply and putting Lemy in mind of a gay dude (Heeeeeey). Her eyes were closed, but somehow she managed to navigate the hall, passing him in a swish of sweet smelling air. Lemy bowed his head and sighed (I hope Leia gets over this soon, I really don't want her of all people mad at me), and Leni stopped, her lids fluttering open. "Hi, Lemy," she said.

"Hi," Lemy replied.

When he felt her warm hands on his bare shoulders, he tensed. "Like, are you okay?" Her nimble fingers traced the outline of his collarbone, and her thumbs stroked up the slope of his neck. A shiver crackled along his spine, and Shocky, still hard despite his master's unsexy mood, tipped his fedora. Morning, m'lady.

There was only one reason a girl would touch him like that - it meant she was interested.

Lovely.

"I'm great," he said, and pulled away from Leni's touch - he tried to be subtle about it, but some things are either loud and destructive or not at all.

She tilted her head to one side in confusion and frowned. "You sure?"

"Yeah, never better."

For a moment she didn't reply, but he could feel her eyes heavy on his back. "Okay. Do you wanna, like, wanna hang out later?" She laid her hands on his shoulders again and leaned in; her hot breath broke against his ear and he winced. "I totes wanna spend time with you."

Translation: I wish to engage you in sexual congress at a later time, male nibling.

"Uh...m-maybe, I'm kinda busy, ya know, school day and all." He forced a sheepish darn-I-wish-I-could laugh and tilted his head away from her lips.

Instead of taking the hint, because of course she wouldn't, she leaned in, her breasts flattening against his back and ran her palms over his shoulders and down across his chest, her thumbs rubbing against his nipples. Her wet, sizzling lips touched the side of his neck, and her tongue darted out to taste his skin. He squeezed his eyes closed and bared his teeth - his dumb, primal instincts told him to take her into her room and do her better than Dad ever could, but his higher reasoning told him to ram his elbow back into her stomach, spin, and give her a DDT so powerful the dishes would rattle in the cabinets. Since neither was an option, he was pretty well screwed.

"When you're ready, come see me," she whispered.

Lemy's head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, okay, yeah, I-I totally will."

She kissed his cheek then pulled away, taking her warmth, smell, and soft, smooth hands with her.

Fuck off.

Don't go.

"See you later, Lemy," she said happily, and Lemy listened to her footsteps on the stairs until she was gone.

Man, it's already shaping up to be a rough day.

Why didn't I just tell her about my no-more-Casanova policy? Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe I'm stupid...or maybe I'm leaving the door open to cheat.

That thought struck him in the middle of the heart like a pointed icicle. He was just smart enough to realize that the subconscious is a powerful thing, and that maybe, on some level, he was putting it off so that he could do her behind Gwen's back. His aunts, so far, were pretty understanding, and if he told Leni about his commitment, she may very well say okie dokie and take her crosshairs off him...which, admittedly, a big part of him didn't want.

Maybe he was preparing the way like John the Baptist.

Alright, fuck that, Imma tell her. And everyone else too.

After school.

Yeah, I'm delaying, sue me. My aunts and sisters can't come onto me there, at least, so what's the big deal?

By the time Leia went in, he had to piss like a Russian racehorse at the Kentucky Derby, and something told him she wasn't going to be quick about doing her business: She could be a little petty when she was mad, which meant she'd take extra long at something if she knew you were waiting. Luckily, he had a dick so he could just go outside, that, however, entailed getting dressed and putting his shoes on: The weatherman said something about snow flurries last night, so it was bound to be cold as fuck outside. He hesitated for a moment, then made his mind up when he heard the bath cut on. Not the shower, the bath, which meant she was definitely in it for the long haul.

Maybe I should go in and try to talk to her.

He saw himself sitting on the closed toilet lid while she longed in the tub, her nakedness tastefully and suggestively hidden by dense soap suds, her blonde hair dry and done up and one knee cresting above the water's surface, marking the place where her pussy was…

Uh, nevermind.

Back in his room, he snatched his jeans from yesterday off the floor and pulled them on. In his absence, Gwen and Lizy snuggled up together, Gwen's arm over Lizy and Lizy's forehead against Gwen's. Awwww. Where's my camera? I legit need to take a picture of this. He spotted it sitting on the nightstand, went over, and picked it up. He swiped his thumb across the screen, opened up his camera, and aimed it, clicking the button on the side when he was satisfied with the angle. This is seriously cute, I'm making it my wallpaper.

His bladder kicked.

After I take a piss.

Shoving the phone into his hip pocket, he spun around in a confused circle, saw his jacket in a heap on the floor, and grabbed it, then slipped into his shoes. On his way down the stairs, he shrugged into the coat and nearly lost his balance. ROYAL WOODS BOY, 13, KILLED IN STUPID ACCIDENT, the headlines the next day read. Below: Local nigga finally does something so dumb God said 'uh-uh, no more.'

What song would they play at my funeral? I've always thought "See You on the Other SIde" by Ozzy would be perfect. Yeah, I know, hard rock, Brett Michaels hair having homo wants an Ozzy song played at his funeral, but seriously, the lyrics are sad as shit and always make me contemplate my mortality. Now every time I hear it, I feel the need to hug Gwen and tell her I love her.

Gay, I know. You should know how much I'm down with the D by now. Allll the way 'down'.

At the bottom of the stairs, he rounded the newel post and went into the dining room, where Liena, Lyra, Lupa, Lacy, Liby, Luan *catching my breath* Mom, Leni, Lola, Lana, and Lisa were gathered around the table like Disciples at the last supper. Dad sat at the head, playing Jesus Christ with a big dick, a cup of coffee and a bagel in front of him. He glanced over as Lemy passed and nodded. "Morning, son."

"Morning," Lemy replied. Did he ever make up with Loan? I gotta ask her. I mean, I get what he was saying yesterday about not being super into fucking his daughters, but...eh, you know. I'm tired and I don't have the energy to sustain my normally lively internal monologue. By now you should know me well enough to really get where I'm coming from.

Then again, you think you know someone, next thing you know, cameras are in your face and you're dazed and confused. "I-I don't know what happened. He seemed like such a nice guy…"

He opened the back door and went onto the porch, a frigid gust of wind blowing over him and ripping a pained gasp from his throat. Goddamn. A thin, crusty layer of white coated everything like fondant on a cake; when he took a step, it crunched under his feet, and on the top step, he slipped, his legs going out from under him and his butt slamming hard onto the surface. Ow!

Gripping the railing and grumbling to himself, he got up and carefully made him way down, then across the yard to the shed - there was a perfect little alcove formed by the building and the fence where no one could see him. He went over, whipped it out, and threw his head back as it left him in a steaming stream. He tried to write his name, but only got L-E before he ran outta gas.

Tucking his hog back into his pants, he zipped them up and went inside, not noticing Lori by the counter until she spoke. "Good morning, Lemy."

She wore a blue robe and matching blue slippers, her calves bare and covered in spidery blue veins that always made him think of Grandma - she had the same thing going on. Varicose or something.

"Good morning," he said and crossed the kitchen. Don't tell me you wanna smash too. She didn't, thank God.

At the foot of the stairs, he met Leia coming down; her steps were hard and angry, her pigtails bouncing. He stepped aside to let her pass...and she shot out her elbow as she passed, driving it into his stomach just above the navel. Pain burst in his center like a bomb and the air left his lungs in a rush. Leia's stride faltered, but the picked up, her face straight ahead and hard as stone. The muscles in his arm twitched and he came this close to snatching her by the hair, but like Jesus, he turned the other cheek. Asshole.

Why was she taking it this hard anyway?

* * *

When Gwen came awake in a fall of white winter sunshine, it was to Lizy's face - the little girl's eyes were closed and a smile played at the corner of her closed lips. She was snuggled to Gwen's body like a kitten to its mama, her bent knees drawn up almost to her chest and her hands folded, lending her the appearance of a little girl saying her prayers (God bless mama, and papa, and especially Lemy~). Gwen's arm was draped over her side and her fingers skimmed a naked patch of warm skin where her shirt had rolled up.

Awww, she looks like an angel.

And I feel like the devil *wink*

Hey, boys aren't the only ones who wake up horny.

Shifting a little, she slowly stroked her hand up and down Lizy's flank, from her hip to her underarm and back again, her fingers dancing along the little girl's side and scraping the thin fabric of her shirt. Underneath her flesh was soft and warm, and Gwen's heart started pounding against her breast. When she reached the hem of Lizy's shirt, she brushed it up and slid her palm over her fevered skin. Lizy's brow pinched cutely, and she muttered something in her sleep that Gwen didn't quite catch but sounded like "...good…"

Gwen scooted closer, their bodies flush now and their faces inches apart, her thumb gently caressing Lizy's already erect nipple. She leaned in and softly kissed the tip of Lizy's nose, then lower, on her lips. Lizy furrowed her brow again, then her eyes fluttered open - big, brown, and full of sleepy confusion. "Good morning," Gwen said.

Lizy squinted like Mr. Magoo without his glasses. "Gwen?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing?"

"Waking you up," she said, "for girl time."

Being a new inductee to the Loud family sex cult, Lizy didn't immediately catch Gwen's meaning; she tilted her head and looked at her as though she were crazy. "Huh?"

"I thought maybe we could have sex," Gwen said, and the sound of those words brought a rush of shame to her face. There was a part of her that saw Lizy as a little girl, but there was another part, a lesbo/pedo part, that wanted to do her really bad. Maybe she'd been hanging around Lemy and his family too much.

For a moment, Lizy simply stared at her. "But...we're girls."

"Yeah," Gwen said, "and girls can have sex with each other."

"How?" Lizy asked curiously.

Gwen smiled. "How about I show you?"

Lizy seemed to think for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."

Gwen pulled her hand out from under Lizy's shirt and laid it on the side of Lizy's face. She moved into kiss her, Lizy watching with expectation, but Lemy's voice stopped her. "We're late."

She looked over her shoulder and Lemy stripped out of his jacket and tossed it aside, then at the clock on the nightstand. Shit, he was right. Sighing, she turned back to Lizy, who watched her with wide eyes and blushing cheeks. "Later," she said, "if you want."

Lizy nodded.

Gwen threw the covers off and got up, the cold air raking painfully across her heated skin - she wore a pair of shorts and a white tank top, which worked in bed, but not so well out of bed, since Mr. Loud kept the thermostat low to save energy. She couldn't blame him - God, this house was so big - but brrrr. She crossed her arms and went to Lemy, who was rummaging in the dresser for a shirt; she leaned over, kissed his cheek, and said, "Good morning,"

"Good morning," he said and turned. She pecked his lips and he put his hands on her hips, dragging her body against his.

Her bladder sloshed. "Oooh, I gotta pee," she said and tried to pull away, but he held fast, a devious grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah?" he asked and moved his hand to her stomach like he was going to tickle her.

She jumped back with a scream and slapped his shoulder. "Don't you dare," she laughed.

"What?" he asked. "I just want a golden shower."

Gwen crinkled her face. "No. That's gross."

"I'll give you one," Lizy piped from the bed. She sat ramrod straight with the covers heaped in her lap. She tilted her head slightly and squinting one eye. "I don't know what that is, though. You have to show me."

Lemy and Gwen looked at each other, then snickered. "It's where you pee on someone," Lemy said.

Lizy's jaw dropped, then snapped closed again. "If...you want me to," she said uncertainly and shrugged.

Lemy grabbed a black T-shirt from the drawer and slipped it over his head. "I was playing, I don't like that kind of thing.

"Oh," Lizy said. "Good. I don't think I would either."

There wasn't a line for the bathroom this morning, but someone was in there - days when the bathroom was actually free when she came out were next to non existent. She crossed her arms and waited, shifting from one foot to the other as her bladder began to burst. Empty me, Gwen, I'm full.

By the time Liena came out with a towel wrapped around her head, Gwen's eyes were floating and her knees knocked. "Good morning," Liena said airily as she passed.

"Morning," Gwen said and darted in, closing the door behind her. When she was done, she flushed, washed her hands, and then went into the hall, handing the bathroom over to Lizy, who was in a similar state - cupping her crotch and dancing from one bare foot to the other as though the floor were made of hot coals and sadness. Gwen stole a glance at the little girl's butt as she shot in and shut the door; her loins stirred and her heart started to race.

When it came to her sexuality, Gwen was morally certain that she was bi with a heavy preference for men - men who wore dorky headbands and used the word 'bro' unironically. She enjoyed being with women, and she could appreciate their beauty, but she didn't feel for any other girl what she felt for Lizy - said feeling being pure, unbridled lust. Like...she liked Lizy, but for some reason she really wanted to lay her back and kiss her from head to toe...then eat her pussy until her knees shook. I guess I'm a pedophile now.

Eh. I'm in the right place, at least.

In the room, which stood empty, she changed into her uniform - skirt, blouse, sweater vest - then slipped her shoes on and went downstairs. Leia, Lyra, Lemy, Lacy, and Loan sat at the dining room table over bowls of cereal while Lynn leaned against the wall texting. She went into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl, and filled it with Corn Flakes, then topped it with milk and took it to the table, where she sat next to Loan. "He says he'll give me a raise," Loan said around a mouthful of bran, bits spraying onto the table. "I don't know if I want the extra work, though."

Gwen dipped her spoon in the bowl and glanced at Lemy. "You should," he said. "Extra money's always good."

"I need to get a job too," Lyra said; he was staring at her phone and swiping her finger up the screen. She stopped, brought it to her face, and squinted. "Ooooh, he's hot."

Lacy rolled her eyes. "What a slut."

Uh-oh. Here comes another Loud house roast; these things are vicious. So far, Gwen had not been dragged into any and she was thankful...though deep she kind of wished they would set their sights on her. It'd be almost like she was family.

Kind of dumb, huh?

She felt eyes on her and turned just as Leia looked away, her lips twisted in a bitter frown.

"I'm not a slut," Lyra said serenely, "I just like guys."

"Every guy," Loan snorted.

"No, not every guy," Lyra said, then looked at Gwen. "Remember Big Sexy?"

Gwen was shocked into laughter. "Yes. I wish I didn't."

"I didn't like him."

"That's a first," Lacy said. "Every time you see a guy on TV you go fucking nuts."

Lyra rolled her eyes. "I don't -"

"You are kind of a slut," Lynn said, speaking for the first time.

Gwen glanced at Leia again; her face was hard and drawn and her eyes simmered. Dark tension rolled off of her in waves, and her body thrummed with restless energy. Leia being mad wasn't rare - it happened as often as sunrise and sunset - but she looked really angry.

"Yeah, you're pretty slutty," Luan said rom the end of the table. Gwen didn't see or hear her come in.

Lyra furrowed her brow and looked around in confusion. "Are you serious?"

Lynn and Luan both nodded that they were. "Yeah," said the first. "Pretty serious," added the second.

"What makes me a slut?" Lyra demanded, her voice edged with indignation. Next to her, Loan snorted and Lyra shot her a dirty look.

"You're always having sex with guys," Lynn said. "You talk about doing them at concerts, wanting to do them, this one's hot, that one's hot…"

Gwen bowed her head over her bowl and fought to rein in her pounding heart. Things were starting to get serious now, and she did not want to be caught in the crossfire, so she made herself as small a target as possible, just like she used to do with Mother and Winston.

Lyra turned in her seat to face Lynn. "We all have tons of sex…"

"That's different," Luan said, "we keep it in the family."

Lyra's face crinkled; she looked like someone just told her the moon was actually a giant crack rock. "So...it's okay when I fuck my brother and father, but doing anyone else makes me a slut?"

Luan nodded. "Pretty much."

Lyra gaped at her, then, with a muttered whatever, she got up and left the room. "I'm late," Luan said and stood.

"Me too," Lynn said.

Loan, Lemy, and Lacy drifted off too, and by the time Gwen was done with breakfast, she was alone with Leia, who glared at her bowl and took occasional sharp breaths through her nose. Yeah, something was really bothering her. "Are you -?"

"Don't talk to me," Leia spat, and Gwen recoiled at the venom in her voice. The blonde shoved away from the table, shot to her feet, and grabbed her books from the chair next to her. She glared at Gwen, then spun on her heels and stalked off. Gwen, chest tight and stomach suddenly sick, watched her go, then winced when the front door slammed, the crashing sound reverberating through the house.

"Stop slamming doors!" Mr. Loud called from upstairs.

Is she mad at me? Gwen worried. I-I didn't do anything! Why would she be mad at me?

She didn't know, but her appetite was gone and she felt like she was going to puke. She sighed, picked her bowl up, and went into the kitchen, where she dumped it into the trash.

Today is not going to be a good day, she thought.

Lemy passed the day in a state of worry, his mind consumed by thoughts of Leia. On the way to school, Gwen told him about the way she yelled at her, and Lemy told her about their confrontation that morning. Gwen listened, then sighed. "I think she has a thing for you." Lemy started to argue, but that actually made sense. Why else would she be so upset? "You should talk to her," Gwen said, "and if she does...be with her."

"But -"

Gwen sighed. "Lemy, I didn't want you to stop. Okay? You did that on your own, and it's already causing problems. I don't want to cause problems."

All that day, he carefully considered her words and his own emotions. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had feelings for Leia too. He didn't want Gwen to feel like he didn't love her, but she was right, in his family, being monogamous was a problem.

At the end of the day, he walked to the academy to pick up Gwen. As expected, Leia did not join them on the walk home. "I'm gonna talk to her," Lemy said. "If I go back to being with the others...will you think I don't love you?" He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

Gwen hesitated, then shook her head. "I-I trust you, Lemy. If you say you won't, you won't."

Given her life and what she went through, the fact that she trusted him meant a lot.

At home, he went to Leia's room and found her sitting on her bed. When she saw him, her face clenched and she turned away, her arms crossing. "Leia," he said, "we need to talk."

"About what?" she asked sharply.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was just going to assume that Gwen was right. "About us."

She glanced at him, one brow arching curiously. "Oh? Am I good enough for you again?"

"Don't be like that," he said, a pleading note in his voice. He came over and sat heavily next to her, the bed dipping down. "I told you why I stopped."

"Gwen made you."

"No, she didn't. I made that decision myself. You know what she went through, Leia. You know how she is. I'm...I'm in love with her, and I don't want to hurt her. I don't want her to think I'm going to throw her away like trash."

Leia was quiet for a moment. "I know," she sighed. "I just…" she trailed off and looked down at her hands in her lap. She lifted her head and turned her eyes to him - they were soft and brimming with pain. "I love you and when you said you couldn't be with me it upset me."

Lemy put his hand on hers and their eyes met. "I love you too," he said.

They kissed deeply.

My life isn't really BS anymore. Yeah, shit happens, things go sour, I stumble, I fall, I make mistakes, but I'm only human. It was a long, hard road to get to where I am as a person, but I wouldn't trade that journey, as arduous as it may have been at times, for anything. It made me into who I am, and it really wasn't so bad.

Life goes on, and I'm looking forward to seeing what comes next.

Signed,

Lemy Loud.


	14. Actually, Hold Up

**Lyrics to Diversion by The Equals (1973)**

At home, he went to Leia's room and found her sitting on her bed. When she saw him, her face clenched and she turned away, her arms crossing. "Leia," he said, "we need to talk."

"About what?" she asked sharply.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was just going to assume that Gwen was right. "About us."

She glanced at him, one brow arching curiously. "Oh? Am I good enough for you again?"

"Don't be like that," he said, a pleading note in his voice. He came over and sat heavily next to her, the bed dipping down. "I told you why I stopped."

"Gwen made you."

"No, she didn't. I made that decision myself. You know what she went through, Leia. You know how she is. I'm...I'm in love with her, and I don't want to hurt her. I don't want her to think I'm going to throw her away like trash."

Leia was quiet for a moment. "I know," she sighed. "I just…" she trailed off and looked down at her hands in her lap. She lifted her head and turned her eyes to him - they were soft and brimming with pain. "I love you and when you said you couldn't be with me it upset me."

Lemy put his hand on hers and their eyes met. "I love you too," he said.

Kiss. Roll credits. The audience goes wild. My name is Lemy Loud and that's my life, thanks for caring, now get the fuck out before the next showing.

That's how it was going to go, he told himself as he tapped the eraser of his pencil on the notebook before him. Neat. Tidy. No fuss, no muss, and no, uh, anything else negative. Just like a movie. You gotta give the people a happy ending, right?

Only life isn't a movie, there are no nifty conclusions or linear plots. Movies, novels, video games, hell, even internet fanfictions, all have an orderliness, even if not much. Life doesn't. Life is fucking chaos, bro, and unpredictable as fuck. With a movie, you pretty much know the good guys are gonna win, and that the hero's gonna get the girl. Life? Nothing is guaranteed.

Leia was...how to put this mildly...really high maintenance, the kind of girl who is proud to a fault. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that even if he said all that crap he imagined himself saying, she'd find a way to still be mad. With Leia...you kind of have to let her come to you. When she's ready. Still, he had to try; see, things were different now. Like Gwen said on their way to school that morning, Leia had a thing for him. He kind of sensed that a while back, but…

Ugh. It's always something. I really shouldn't complain, I mean...this is kind of a first world problem, you know? Brah, my yacht stopped working FML. There are horny kids in China who'd kill to be in my shoes. I should really be more grateful. It's not the end of the world if she stays mad for a while, she'll come around.

It's kind of sad how caught up in our own problems we can become. Something seems fucking massive to us, but to someone standing two feet away, it's Dude, stop being a drama queen. The thing is, I hurt her feelings, and you know me, I've been in her shoes and I know what it's like, so it affects me more than it would a normal person. I guess I'm just gonna have to deal with it, though. No point in sitting around whining. Oh, boo hoo hoo, woe unto me.

One of my many annoying traits is to divert my thinking to irrelevant bullshit when I have a problem. You ever see that cartoon of the dog sitting at his kitchen table with a steaming cup of Joe and a big smile on his face...while everything around him is literally on fire? This is fine. That's kind of how I am. Some people might call it padding, but you know what? Stephen King padded for fifty years and everyone loved the guy; he couldn't fart without Hollywood turning it into a movie. Hell, everything's padded - buy a bag of chips a the store, and half the motherfucker's air. Moe from The 3 Stooges...when they were on tour back in the day, doing live events, he'd send his check home to his wife and keep back just what he needed for the week. Larry said that he always wound up with one dollar left over. Someone asks Larry "What's he do with it?"

Larry says, "Ahh, he pisses it away."

LOL. It's funny because Moe was a Jew. Literally and figuratively. Dude did not like spending money.

Anyway...Leia's mad and we both just have to deal with it.

And Gwen too.

Sigh. That bothers me. Gwen never said don't cest with your sisters (cesters?), it was me, but Leia blames her and…

It's not that big a deal.

I'll stop now.

He tapped his pencil against the notepad and frowned at the three, tight lines of script, the beginnings of a poem.

The teacher talks  
But I don't listen  
Because in my heart

In my heart what, Lemy?

I don't fuckng know. I just started writing without planning ahead, which is a good way to fucking fail. And get tired out. And wind up hating what you're doing.

I know He is risen.

BOOM. Like a sniper's bullet.

I...was not trying to go religious...at all...but...what the hell, I need something.

He propped his elbow on the desk and jotted it down. At the head of the classroom, the teacher sat at her desk with her feet kicked up and her nose buried in a Harlequin romance novel. I wish I could get paid for reading softcore porn. Look at this shit, and teachers have the audacity to complain about not making enough money. Well, motherfucker, get a job that doesn't lay you off every summer. Dumbass.

You know what? If she can fuck off, so can I.

He reached into the breast pocket of his drab green utility shirt, pulled out his ear buds, and slipped them into his ear holes (what's the scientific name for those things, anyway?). Next he took out his phone, went to one of his many, many playlists, and hit SHUFFLE. Distorted, sixties style guitar rocketed into his brain like a Catholic priest into an altar boy.

I had a slight diversion  
But I'm back, I'm back, I'm back, I'm back  
I had a slight diversion  
But I'm back, I'm back, I'm back, I'm back  
I used to say I loved you  
Yeah, yeah, yeah  
I took a diversion, a diversion, a diversion  
To bring my love back to you

There we go, now back to this…

He caught a flash of movement from the corner of his right eye, and turned; the guy in the desk next to him was leaning over and staring intently at his notebook as if trying to read Lemy's poem.

His name was Joe and he was new - short black hair, glasses, pimples, pocket protector...real fucking geek. He reminded Lemy of Corin Nemec as Harold Lauder from The Stand - a long ass Stephen King movie filled with padding, you wouldn't be interested.

Remember how you got into my face?  
Do you remember them, the ones who took my place?  
Well I'm lying there with you  
And I'm trying hard to prove  
To think that I, I spent some time for you  
Now, now, now, now

Joe flicked his eyes up to Lemy, and Lemy chafed a little. "Can I help you?"

"What are you doing?" Joe asked pointedly and without preamble. His glasses made him look so much like a bug it was uncanny.

"Writing a poem," Lemy said.

Have you ever told a man you fucked his wife and daughter and wiped your ass on his pillowcase? Lemy hadn't, but he imagined dude's expression would be eerily similar to Joe's: Shock, horror, revulsion...and hate.

Uh…

"Poets are scumbags," Joe hissed, his eyes narrowed to predatory slits. Lemy had heard the phrase so and so's face darkened (and maybe he'd used it too), but he'd never actually seen it. Now he did. "And poems are the lowest form of literary expression on the planet."

Did this guy just call me a scumbag for writing poetry? I was expecting fag or loser but scumbag? That's a little extreme, don't you think? "Okay," Lemy said and turned away. When someone's trolling you - which is what this dude was doing, had to be - you don't take the bait.

But you know what? Fuck him. Nerdy, bitch-ass, geeky looking motherfucker. He picked up his pencil, but Joe's voice stopped him. "Are you going to keep writing it? You shouldn't."

No, actually, Lemy wasn't going to continue it, but now...yeah, yeah he was. "I think I will. Thanks."

Joe's nostrils flared. "Do the world a favor: Tear it out, ball it up, and throw it away."

I know my stuff's no good, but I dont think its existence has any effect on the world. My writing doesn't cause famine or poverty, it's not going to make your life objectively better or worse...it has no impact...at all.

Lemy ignored him and started to write, but the guy would not fucking quit. "Poetry is inane, banal, and boring. Write a story instead."

Yuck. Writing stories is gay.

Oh, I have an idea.

Grinning to himself, he turned the page and put pencil to paper. "Oh, thank God," Joe said, stupidly believing that Lemy was taking his advice.

Less than a minute later, he ripped the page out and handed it to Joe. Joe took it, adjusted his glasses, and read.

Joe was a poetry hating man  
Of sonnet and verse, he was not a fan  
He hated poets, one and all  
Because one raped him in a bathroom stall.

Lemy figured dude would roll his eyes or snear or something. Instead, he got really red and started to shake, his hand crumpling the paper with a crinkle. Uh-oh, I think I killed him.

Throwing the poem to the ground, Joe jabbed a finger at Lemy, and Lemy drew back a little. "You son of a bitch, I'll deal with you after class."

Lemy blinked. Really? He was gonna like that? "Dude…"

"Your ass is mine."

With that, Joe whipped his head away and glowered at the front of the room, his face stony and set.

Lemy was going to let it go, but fuck this guy. "I'm shaking."

"You better be," Joe said, "I know karate."

LMAO! "You weigh fifty pounds soaking wet, bitch, fuck you."

"You're going to eat those words," Joe said tightly, "and your teeth."

Pfft. Whatever.

Lemy turned, snapped the page with a provocative flourish, and started to write the most epic poem ever.

Just out of spite.

* * *

Lyra Loud was not an overachiever, nor was she a goody two shoes...she also wasn't the kind of girl who skipped school, yet on that chilly early spring morning, she found herself doing just that, her hands shoved into the pockets of her purple coat and her head bowed against the wind. Her steps were slow and unrushed, the heels of her black boots clicking on the sidewalk like hoofbeats. Her lips were pursed and her brow thoughtfully pinched - every so often she would let out a heavy sigh.

Since leaving the house, she'd been lost in the chambers of her own mind, replaying what her aunts and sisters said at breakfast again and again. You're kind of a slut, Lynn said. Yeah, you're pretty slutty, Luan added.

Okay, first of all, she was not a slut. A slut fucks anything that moves, she had standards. She just...liked sex. A slut walks up to a random guy hey, wanna fuck? She didn't, but if she met a guy and they vibed...why not? Sex is awesome.

Second, that oh, we keep it in the family bullshit was just that - bullshit. How is having sex with Dad any different from having sex with someone else?

Third, she didn't sleep with that many guys - come on. There was Dad, Lemy, Grandpa, Bill, Jim, Dave, Steve, Pat, Lio, Vale, Zer, Bob, Mason, Corey, Joseph...uh...Dan, Tyrel, Wong, Ernesto, Hugh Jr., that guy who gave her a ride to the gas station, uh...black guy number one, black guy number two, that old redneck who ran the hardware store, her chemistry teacher Mr. Jordan, that boy at the beach when she was thirteen, guy at party number one, guy at party number two, guy at party numbers three-six, guy at concert numbers one-five. There were more that she did other things with, but those were the guys she actually fucked. Only...

She came to a crashing halt.

34.

She'd been with 34 men in her seventeen years.

"Oh, my God," she said with drawing horror, "I am a slut."

Maybe she miscounted. She rolled her eyes up to the milky white sky and did a quick run through, hoping to God she added a few.

Well, she was right.

She did miscount.

It wasn't 34...it was 36.

An icy wind blew through her soul, and every sexual encounter she'd ever had flashed through her mind, all the dick she sucked, all the guys she let finger her, all the times he let a dude jizz or piss on her tits. A half an hour ago, those thoughts would have excited her, but now they made her sick.

Lisa said something about her and her siblings being perverts and having overactive sex drives, so it wasn't that bad, right?

No, no, it was, because there were times when all she could think about was sex, times when her pussy smoldered like a bed of embers and her mind filled with lustful smoke. None of her other sisters (outside of Leia) had ever done anything with a man outside the family...because they could wait for Dad (or, now, Lemy). She couldn't.

She got it where ever.

Like a fucking slut.

Feeling two inches tall and dirty, Lyra sighed and forced herself on, passing the town park and the courthouse, blind to the people on the sidewalk around her, and to the cars moving along the streets. She had no idea she was that bad, but looking at it now, like, in hindsight, she realized how much of a thot she really was. Lacy said she was always going on about hot guys on TV and stuff, and she was - every time she saw a shirtless man, her pussy tingled and she bit her bottom lip. Even if he was fat. Not too fat, but big guys can be sexy too, you know? And scrawny guys. Black guys. Asian guys. Ru -

She stopped when she realized she was getting turned on.

Ahhhhh! Stop being a slut!

Sudden and inexplicable tears filled her eyes, and the urge to give into them and cry settled over her like a dark cloud. She didn't' mean to be like that, she just really liked sex - she liked guys, she liked making them cum, she liked them making her cum, and...well...when you get right down to it, she enjoyed the closeness of the act. From the time she was a little girl, she'd been instilled with the notion that sex is how people bond, and she'd always been really outgoing, so maybe…

She rounded a corner and followed the sidewalk without looking where she was going. It didn't matter. She was a skank and, now that she thought about it, confused as well. She did like people, and she liked sex, somehow she very well could have crossed the two so that she became sociable by fucking. Only with men, though, not with women. Or possibly...she didn't know. She wasn't a deep thinker like Lemy or Lupa, or even Dad. She was smart, but not in the same way they were; they were good at philosophizing and self-analysis, she was not. She was a slut and sluts are horrible people -they lack control and self-respect, they're filthy and gross and everyone who sees one either feels pity or loathing.

The energy ran out of her, and she sat heavily on a set of concrete steps leading up to a building, slanted black metal rails flanking either side. She put her head in her hands and fought back the coming storm, saving herself but just barely.

You know what else sluts are? Unlovable. She planned to get married some day, or to at least find a guy she could spend her life with, but what guy wants a ho?

God, did wanting that make her a ho too? Lynn and Luan acted like she was terrible for being with men not in the family, so if she wanted someone who wasn't Dad or Lemy…

Grrr, she didn't know. She wasn't in love with either one of them. She loved them and enjoyed having sex with them, but she didn't feel that way about them.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the door at the top of the stairs open, didn't know she wasn't alone until someone sat next to her. Starting, she turned her head, and an old woman with short white hair and ruby red lips smiled warmly. "You look like you have a lot on your mind, sweetie," she said in a voice like honey. She wore a blue dress and a strand of white pearls around her neck. For some reason, Lyra was reminded of all the pearl necklaces guys have given her over the years, and she shivered.

"N-Not really," she said quickly.

The old woman favored her with soft concern, then patted her leg, her touch light and comforting. "I've raised four children and three grandchildren; I knew when something's bothering a child, and something's bothering you, dear. You don't have to talk to me about it if you don't want, but there is someone you should speak to. It'll make you feel much, much better."

Lyra's brows furrowed. "Who?" she asked curiously.

The old woman smiled. "Come inside and I'll show you, dear." She got to her feet and held her hand out. Lyra looked up at her - her eyes pooled with love and understanding, and the self-hate that had formed like ice on her bones melted away. Smiling almost against her will, Lyra took it, got up, and followed, so focused on the good feelings aroused by her new friend that she didn't see the sign by the door.

TRINITY UNITED METHODIST CHURCH.

* * *

Lemy Loud shifted from one foot to the other and pursed his lips, his hands balling in the pockets of his jeans. Come on, come on, come on, goddamn, how long does it take?

He was standing in line at the cafeteria snack machine waiting his turn - a group of cheerleaders was scanning the selection and giggling to each other about some douche named. Lemy didn't know Chad, so maybe he was a bro, but Chad was an asshole name. Like Todd; every Todd Lemy had ever known was a dickhead. Except Todd Flanders, he was just, you know, annoying.

One of the girls put her dollar in, cocked her hip, and tapped her lips with her index finger. She started to press one of the buttons, but hesitated, cocked her hip in the other direction, and hummed. Lemy threw back his head and seriously considered walking away, but his stomach was growling and if he didn't eat something, he'd be miserable the rest of the day.

"Are those chips, like, gluten free?" the girl asked one of her buddies, and Lemy rolled his eyes. Kind of funny how everyone's suddenly allergic to gluten...just like it's funny everyone suddenly has a trigger. Now, some people do have legit issues and seeing or hearing a certain thing fucks them up, but a lot of people lie through their fucking teeth just so they have a quick and easy excuse to not have to deal with something they don't like. Saying Star Trek is better than Star Wars totally triggers me, brah. Shut up, no it doesn't.

The girl finally pressed a button, and a bag of chips dropped into the slot. She bent, reached in, and grabbed them. One of her friends took her place, her arms crossing and her lips bunching as she studied the offerings before her. She was blonde with a perky ponytail and long legs, the hem of her skirt stopping at the tops of her thighs. Lemy wasn't in the market for a girl (sorry, honey) but...yeah, he looked.

Here's a completely random line of thought that has nothing to do with girls: I have a harem now just like my father. Yeah, I know, I've realized this before, it's not news, but every time I think of it, it kind of catches me off guard. Like...wow. One of the reasons I was so salty was because, let's face it, I'm insecure. Objectively, I have a big dick, I'm good with mechanical stuff (which is cool and all), and I'm not a total piece of shit - but still, I'm all insecure. Or was. Still kind of am but it was worse back in the day, and looking at Dad, you know...I was jealous as fuck. Lol. I never thought I'd have what he had because I suck. Now that I do have it, it's a little staggering.

I would have been happy with just Gwen, though. I really would have. Lizy was kind of beyond my control and Loan just...happened. I didn't seek those relationships out, they dropped into my lap like a gift from heaven. I opened them, sure, I'm not saying I'm entirely blameless or whatever, but, as I've said, Gwen is great and I could have done fine with just her. Especially given her issues. She's afraid I'll stop loving her because of the others, which won't happen; I knew going in that she was insecure (it takes one to know one), and when she said what she said the other day, I was fully prepared to give up my harem ways. I made that decision and it's caused problems.

She says she doesn't care if I go back to it, she just wants me to love her too. Well, duh. I guess I'll just have to show her extra love. Loan, hopefully, will understand if I spend a little more time with Gwen, and maybe Lizy. Leia, if we add her to the mix full time, may or may not. I'll just have to wait and see.

The second girl reached into the slot and grabbed a candy bar, then they all passed Lemy, looking at him and giggling. When a girl giggles at you, it means one of two things: She likes you or she doesn't. He'd heard both types before, and theirs was of the second variety. Pfft. Go hang out with Chad, honey; guarantee you my dick's bigger.

At the machine, he whipped out his dollar, flattened it, and shoved it in.

It came back.

He pulled it out, flattened it again, and inserted it.

Nope.

Sigh. It's 2039 and vending machines are still finicky. You'd think that by now they'd take a fucking bill that isn't perfectly straight. Do I have anymore? He patted his pockets (oh, shit, there's a joint in my pants - I better flush this), but felt only poverty. "Hey, asshole."

Lemy turned, and Joe the Poetry Hating Man was standing behind him, shoulders squared and fists balled. Ugh. Really? This guy is really doing this? "What?" Lemy asked.

"It's time for your punishment."

Lemy laughed. He couldn't help it. "Dude, fuck off," he said dismissively.

"Are you going to fight me, or run and cower like the poet you are?"

Alright, you know what, fuck it. Lemy shoved his dollar into his pants and turned. "You're starting to piss me off."

"Show me. With your hands."

Okay. Lemy sprang forward and cocked his fist back, but Joe was quick as grease lighting - his fist smashed into Lemy's jaw and hot pain exploded in the center of his skull. He stumbled back against the machine, the world spinning violently around him, and sank to his butt.

Joe closed in to finish the job, but Principal McVickers appeared out of nowhere, like the devil when a soul needs stealing. "What is going on here?" he demanded of Joe.

"That boy attacked me," he said indignantly and jabbed his finger at Lemy.

Ow, goddamn, my head. He rubbed his jaw and looked dazedly up as the principal turned, his eyes narrowing to angry slits. The principal's, not Lemy's. "Ah, I should have known it was you, Loud. You're a goddamn troublemaker."

Lemy blinked. What? "He hit me!"

"You probably deserved it."

Everyone in the cafeteria was looking at him, most of them snickering behind their hands, a few even outright laughing. "Dude, I'm never even in trouble," Lemy said, confused. It was true. He got detention here and there, but for the most part, he never bothered anyone.

"That doesn't matter. You wear a headband and only scumbags wear headbands." The principal held up one finger. "Bikers." Another. "Gangsters." Another still. "Eighties metal groups."

Okay, now Lemy was offended. "Hey, you can insult bikers and you can insult me, but when you insult eighties hair bands -"

"Shut the fuck up and get your ass to detention." McVickers grabbed him by the front of his shirt, dragged him to his feet, and shoved him toward the door. He looked back, and Joe smugly crossed his arms. "Sic semper poets."

McVickers glared at Lemy and pointed. "Get out of my cafeteria, you son of a bitch."

Sigh.

This kind of crap always happens to me.

My life really is bullshit.

* * *

Lupa Loud reached for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, drew one out, and plopped the filter into her mouth. She lit it, tossed the lighter aside, and took a deep drag, the smoke filling her lungs like a warm, deadly hug.

She was lying in bed with the sheet pulled up over her breasts, her white hair messy and her pale face blushing red; beads of sweat stood on her forehead, and though her breathing was calm, her heart slammed wildly against her ribs. Next to her, her father bent one arm behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. "So you're into Lemy," he said, his voice shattering the heavy post-coital silence. Lupa took another rip and blew it out in a long blue stalk. She shifted her hips; Dad's load oozed out of her and onto the bed, making her wince. It was like puking - you know, it was good going down but not coming back up.

For a moment she considered her response, then sighed. "I don't know. I've just been thinking of him a lot lately, and of our relationship."

And she had been thinking of him a lot - to the point where she couldn't get him out of her head. She sought distraction with her father, but as he rammed into her, she continued thinking of him; soon he was the one fucking her, and when she came (hard), she cried out his name.

Dad chuckled bemusedly. "He's a great kid. He needs to lose that dumb headband and get a haircut, but he's really awesome."

Lupa grated at the headband/haircut remark. Yeah, he'd probably look better with shorter hair, and the headband was kind of gay, but she found that she didn't like it when someone talked shit about him. Like Dad said, he was great.

Lifting the filter to her lips, she took a puff and frowned. "I just feel like we aren't as close as I thought we were and...I don't know." She honestly didn't. She was confused and tired - tired of life, tired of being depressed, tired of the mood swings, and tired of herself.

Dad laid his hand on her leg and she looked at him. "If you feel for him, say something." He chuckled again. "You kids are so strange - you make such a big deal out of nothing. Lemy did it, Liby and Lacy did it, Lizy did it...why?"

Sighing, Lupa said, "Because I'm not sure I really want him like that, okay?" her voice was sharper than she'd intended, but she didn't care. All of her feelings, all of her emotions toward Lemy, had been locked in her breast and she could feel them coming out. "What we do here isn't normal. You know that. I know that."

Dad flicked his eyes ashamedly down. "No," he admitted, "it's not. I try not to think about it."

"Me too, but I do. It's not normal, you aren't normal, and I'm not normal. The only normal thing in my life has been my relationship with Lemy. There's a part of me that wants him physically, to kiss him and fuck him and all that...but when I think about it, it's like...like I'm perverting something innocent and pure, and it makes me feel like shit."

For a moment, Dad was silent. "Lupa," he said softly, "I know I'm a piece of shit. I know having sex with my daughters is...is awful, but loving Lemy, in any way you choose to, is not. Everyone always goes on and on about marrying their best friend. Being with my sisters is kind of like that but deeper. If you want to be with Lemy - in a relationship or otherwise - it's not perverting something, it's strengthening something." He stopped and frowned to himself. "If you don't want to go in that direction with him, that's fine. You don't have to do anything you don't want. I just think you're approaching this from the wrong angle."

Staring up at the ceiling (better get Lana on that water spot over there), Lupa considered his words. Was she approaching this from the "wrong angle"? For as long as she could remember, she and Lemy had been close as brother and sister, and looking back on that companionship, she ached so hard it physically hurt. Was she aching for that, or to go farther? Did she love him as a brother or as more?

She didn't know, her emotions were a tangled confusion and getting them unwound was going to take a lot of time and thought...time and thought she just didn't think she had. "I don't know, maybe," she said, suddenly lacking the energy to even speak. She took a drag and stubbed it out in the glass ashtray on the nightstand. She needed to get up and take a shower, but she didn't feel like it - she didn't feel like lying in bed covered in sperm like a common gutter slut even less.

Swinging her legs out from under the sheet, she sat up and stretched, her small, pert breasts flattening against her chest and her shoulder blades flexing. She got up and walked over to the dresser, her sticky inner thighs rubbing together. She grabbed her towel and glanced over her shoulder; Dad was pulling on his jeans, and something about him filled her with both love and revulsion.

Wrapping the towel around herself, she went to the bathroom on bare feet, falling in line behind Lacy and Gwen - there was always a rush on the john after school. "You sure you don't wanna play some soccer?" Lacy asked Gwen. "You did really good the last time. That hit to the nose hurt like hell." She laughed like a girl at a fond memory.

"Maybe later," Gwen said heavily, "I have a lot on my mind."

Humph. Honey, you have it easy. You're not me - you don't have disgusting, unnatural sex with your father and like it...you aren't confused because you don't know how you feel for your brother. With Lemy...at least you know you love him. I don't know shit.

Lacy laid a hand on Gwen's shoulder, her tone soft. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just Leia. She's mad at me."

Lupa sniffed. "Don't worry about Leia," she said, "she's always mad at someone. She'll get over it."

Gwen shrugged one shoulder. "I hurt her feelings, though."

"She has feelings?" Lupa asked.

Lacy snickered. "She'll be fine," Lacy said. "You know what'll make her happy?"

"What?" Gwen asked curiously.

Lacy grinned. "Seeing you play soccer with me."

Gwen laughed and Lupa rolled her eyes. Soccer. Ugh. You know what? I'll lay in cum, whatever.

She turned and went back to her room.

* * *

It was just after 5pm when Lemy dragged himself through the front door...soaking wet; it started to rain when he was halfway home, and instead of running the rest of the way like a jackass, he just took it. In life, he'd discovered, sometimes you gotta roll over and bite the pillow.

Gwen and Lacy were sitting together on the couch, and when he came in, Gwen smiled. "Hey, Freak," she said, then frowned. "You're all wet."

"He musta got turned on and leaked out his pussy," Lacy said, and they both giggled.

Lemy slammed the door behind him, went over to the armchair, and dropped in, his wet jeans squishing against his ass. "Laugh it up, assholes," he grumbled.

Getting to her feet, Gwen came over and sat on his lap, one arm snaking around his neck. She leaned in and planted a soft, affectionate kiss to his forehead. "We're laughing with you, Freak, not at you. How was jail?"

Every day after school, Lemy walked to academy and picked Gwen up. Today, because Principal McDickers gave him detention, he couldn't make it, so he texted her and explained the situation. My principal is a fucking asshole, he insulted eighties bands and gave me detention. "Lovely," he said now. "My cellie was great. Name was Big Bubba."

Gwen lifted a brow. "Big Bubba?"

Big Bubba is the proverbial prison rapist - he's depicted as a big, bald black guy who loves making little white boys in headbands his bitch. It's not a racist thing; there's a white version too. His name is Tiny because he's a hulking giant. Lol. Clever, huh? (Sarcasm).

Smart, pretty, good-in-bed Gwen didn't get it, though, but that was okay, most people didn't understand him. It was his fault for being the way he was, really. He could dumb himself down and be a Chad, but that sounded even gayer than being him.

"No one," he said and put him arm around her hips.

She nodded slowly. Oooookay. "Can you talk to Leia, please? She's still really mad."

FLASHBACK TIME, NIGGA

Gwen stands at the bottom of the main stairs to the academy, her books pressed to her chest. A dense group of kids streams by, and she scans their faces, looking for Leia. When she finally spots the little blonde, she takes a deep breath. Leia, look, I never meant for Lemy to not be with you, it was his decision but we talked about it and he's okay with it. That's what she planned to say at any rate. When she tried, Leia shot her a dirty look and held up her hand. "Do not talk to me. Go to your house and not mine."

Gwen winces, and tears begin to fill her eyes.

END FLASHBACK TIME, NIGGA

Lemy sighed. "I had a looong day, just...give me a minute, okay?"

Gwen started to reply, but cut off when the door opened and Lyra strode in, her freckled face set in a glower and a black, leather bound book clutched in one hand. The light reflected off a golden chain around her neck. On the end was a cross. She seemed...mad.

At the foot of the stairs, she cupped one hand to her mouth and called out. "FAMILY MEETING, NOW!"

Gwen cringed when the older girl spun around - her face was pinched and dark, her eyes glinting like flecks of brown ice. She came over and stood in the middle of the living room, whipping her gaze from Gwen to Lemy to Lacy and back again. Lacy arched her brow. "What's your problem?"

Lyra sneered.

Oh, God, Gwen thought as her heart began to pound, more drama.

Slowly, everyone made their way into the living room, Lincoln last; twenty plus people crowded around, some on the couch, some on the floor, and some on the coffee table. Gwen sat on one of Lemy's knees while Lizy perched on the other like a small cat; Loan sat on the arm of the chair and ran her fingers absently and affectionately through her brother's hair as she glared at Lyra.

"What's this about?" Lincoln asked.

Lyra looked at the gallery of faces before her. "It is about our family. This house is a den of iniquity; your sins have soaked into the very walls, and I am honestly surprised God has not wiped us off the face of the earth yet."

Everyone looked confused.

Lyra held up the book. BIBLE was written across the front in gold script. "You are all abominable sinners and wallow in your spiritual filth like pigs in mud." She pointed at Leia. "Vanity." Then Loan. "Sloth."

Loan's eyes narrowed. "I have a job. Bitch."

Lupa. "Tristitia." Lupa furrowed her brows.

"Envy," Lyra said and pointed at Lemy, who cringed.

"Leave him alone," Lizy spat. "He's great."

Lyra pointed at her next. "Defending envy." She looked at everyone else. "And each and every single one of you here is guilty of lust. I was like you, but I have seen the light, and I'm here to give you a chance to join me in glory."

For a moment, everyone was silent...then burst out laughing, Leia pressing her hand to her face and shaking her head; Lupa snickering; Luan waving Lyra off; Lynn pointing; Lemy throwing his head back; Lizy burying her face in his chest. The only one who didn't laugh was Gwen; she stared worriedly down at her lap, her hand squeezing Lemy's.

Lyra's face turned beet red and a metaphorical squiggle of smoke curled up from the top of her head. "You choose to continue on the path to hell?"

"Hell does not exist, Lyra," Lisa said, "it is -"

Lyra spun on her. "You'll burn for that."

Seething, Lyra stalked out of the room, and everyone looked at each other in confusion and shock. "What the hell was that?" Lincoln asked.

"I guess Lyra's a Christian now," Lori sighed.

"Oh," Leni said, "well...like...who wanted that?"

Lincoln shrugged. "Not me."

Everyone else voiced their agreement.

But they had it.

How will they deal with it? Will Lupa confess her feelings to Lemy? Will Leia stop being mad? Find out on the next episode of The BS Life Of Lemy Loud.

* * *

**In this arc, I made Lyra into a Christian, which is how she is often portrayed in the sin kids fandom. I was well into BS when I saw my first pic with her as a Christian - she was holding a picket sign that said NO INCEST! I took it as a joke. Incest girl...against incest, ha, but I kept seeing more and more of them, so I asked Patanu if that's how she was or if was indeed a joke. He told me it started as a joke.**

**Hilarious.**

**I'm an agnostic now, but I grew up a Christian, and the depiction of them in the media - as 1D zealot stock characters - always, not gonna lie, kind of offended me. It offended me because it felt like it was a giant middle finger and it offended me because really? You're going for that old cliche again? Enter Lyra: "Mother, this is sinful, John 3:16 says…"**

**I don't find that funny, sorry. I also think it's dumb that a lot of her fics have her acting like a Christbot and too many of her pics reduce her religion to a roasry around her neck...or lying casually on the nightstand as she fucks her brother. It didn't work for me. **

**I didn't intend for mine to be a slut - people only started calling her that when I revealed she had sex with men who weren't her father and brother, by the way - but I went with it. Most of the female OCs are sluts anyway, the only difference is that my Lyra is open about who she is. Until she wasn't and put up false pretenses...which most of the other OCs do as well. **


	15. To Hell With The Devil

**I forgot what this chapter was originally called so I used a new title. In here, I make fun of the OC Lyle. Long story short...blah blah blah, looks like a girl and has tons of manly hobbies that used to take a backseat to his physical appearance. Idk about now, but I didn't like what the character started as and stayed for months, so I tuned out. There are a lot of typos in here, dunno why, but I don't even feel like correcting them.**

* * *

**Lyrics to To Hell With The Devil by Stryper (1986)**

"Maybe you should go talk to her," Lori said. She and Lincoln were standing in the kitchen after dinner, both holding cups of coffee; Lincoln leaned against the edge of the counter and Lori by the archway to the dining room. The topic of conversation was, as it had been all evening, Lyra. She refused to come downstairs and when Liena brought her a plate, she said she didn't want it because she was 'fasting for the sins of this house.' Lincoln had no idea what fasting was, but apparently it didn't involve eating.

He sighed and took a sip. "Yeah, I guess." She was serious about this Christian business; at first Lincoln thought it was a joke. And a dumb one at that. Apparently not, though. Part of him wanted to put it off because he could smell a confrontation, but he also wanted to get it over with

Setting the mug on the counter, he brushed past Lori. "Wish me luck."

She pecked his cheek. "Luck."

He crossed through the dining room into the living room, where Leni and Liena sat between Lacy and Liby. Seeing his sister-wife, Lincoln remembered something: She wanted another baby.

Leni, despite being a little...different...was a caring and nurturing woman, and every once in a while, the desire for another child came upon her like a tidal wave. The thing was, Lincoln was sterile, and had been since shortly after Lizy was born. Leni knew this, but often forgot. She wanted to adopt, and Lincoln was fine with that, but adopting a baby, which is what she wanted, is expensive in America, and they just didn't have the money. Last night she broke down crying because I want a baby so bad. It killed Lincoln, but what could he do? Lisa did have a bunch of his sperm in a freezer, but her lab lost power a few years ago and it all spoiled.

Maybe when Lemy got older he'd be willing to knock her up.

Climbing the stairs, he turned left and went to Lyra's door - it was closed and forboding, like the entrance of a tomb behind which lurked a risen savior back from the dead and hungry for souls. Where the hell did this Christian nonsense come from anyway? He wasn't against religion (in fact, he thought there had to be something, even if it's not what we think), but Lyra had never shown even the slightest inlcination toward any sort of belief. In fact, when she was ten, she straight out said I don't believe in God; he, she, Luna, Lori, and Luan were watching a movie about Jesus (why he couldn't remember), and she was all into the guy playing Jesus. Up to that point, the only thing he'd ever done with her was fingering, and she said, I really want Jesus to finger me. Lincoln said she better watch out saying stuff like that or she'd go to hell. I don't believe in God.

Eh. Okay. Different strokes for different folks.

Now she was basically Fred Phelps. Talk about a 180, damn; you see that kink in my neck? It's called whiplash and it's a hell of a drug.

Hahahaha. Dad joke. Sigh. He knocked on the door and waited for a response, then knocked again when he didn't get one. "Come in," she called; maybe he was just keyed up, but she sounded pissed. Aren't Christians supposed to be burstng with good news? Why be mad?

He turned the knob and poked his head in; she knelt beside the bed, her elbows propped on the mattress and her hands folded in prayer. Her Bible lay open nearby; was it one of those teen action Bibles with people skateboarding and stuff on the cover? Those were pretty, uh, hip. Her eyes were closed and her lips moved in silence; Lincoln just stood there feeling awkward and waiting for her to acknowledge him. When she finally turned her head, her eyes narrowed to angry slits, and his heart skipped. She was such a pretty girl, but on the rare occasions she got mad, she looked evil. Ironic considering her newfound faith.

Lincoln opened his mouth, but didn't have the slightest idea how to approach this. Hey, what's up with all ths God shit? Or maybe So, I hear you have a new friend…

"H-Hey," he said and resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. "Uh...can-can we talk?"

Lyra glared, then her features softened...but only slightly. "Yes," she said. She got up and sat on the bed, her back ramrod straight, her chin jutting defiantly out, and her hands resting haughtily in her lap. She looked like a woman astride a high horse...and with something deep in her ass.

This time he did rub the back of his neck. "Uh...so...what's going on?" The last three words came in a rush.

"I found God," Lyra said soberly. "I learned just how wrong what we've been doing is, and what the wages of our sins really are." Her voice cracked with emotion and her face rippled like the disturbed surface of a millpond. Lincoln flicked his eyes down to the bed - she was one hundred percent serious. She wasn't just parroting something a hunky Christian guy she met at the gas station said, whatever went into her head...it clicked. "I learned that we're all going to hell. Not me, because I'm saved, but everyone else in this despicable house of Sodoml. They are wicked, damned, and cursed."

A hot flush of anger colored Lincoln's cheeks and he started to speak, but she cut him off. "There is good news, however…"

Oh, here we go.

"Christ died for our sins. Through Him we have redemption and eternal life." A glow crept into her face, and she smiled giddily. "All you have to do is admit what a piece of shit you are."

Lincoln blinked.

"Come here," she said and slipped off the bed, kneeling like she had before. She slapped the mattress like a woman trying to attract a skittish cat. "Come get right with the big guy."

That wasn't going to happen. He understood she was excited about Jesus and all that, but she just called him a piece of shit and said that her brother and sisters were going to hell. It should go without saying he wasn't exactly happy about that. "Lyra," he said, "look, I get that you're gung-ho about this, but the things you've been saying a-a-and how you burst into the house earlier...that's not okay."

Her brow knitted. "One of the eleven commandments is to honor thy mother and father."

"I'm pretty sure you mean ten -"

"At the same time, you're the last person who should be talking about what is right and what isn't."

Lincoln considered himself a liberal parent, but there are times when even a liberal has to get hard. "Excuse me?" he asked sternly.

"Dad...I was ten when you started molesting me."

Lincoln's jaw dropped, and for a brief moment, he was frozen...then hot rage exploded in his chest. "Molesting you?"

She nodded. "Yes. Molestiing."

"You came to me!"

Twenty-one years ago, Lisa accidentally infected him and their sisters with a pheromone that permanently altered their DNA and brain chemistry, turning them them into incest loving perverts with high sex drives. Loan was eight the first time she came to Lincoln, her body so flooded with hormones that she literally cried. Please, Daddy, make it stop. Each succesive child felt the sting of their condition less, but they did still feel it, and each in turn came to him when doing it themselves no longer satisfied them. At first he was totally against the idea, but Loan was in such pain that...well...he did what he had to do. On some level, he liked it...on another, he hated it.

Either way, he never "molested" his daughters.

"Dad," Lyra said, "I was ten."

Lincoln opened his mouth, but Lyra cut him off. "You were a grown man. I was confused and budding prematurely. I didn't know any better. You did."

She stared at him with a lofty expression, her head back and her eyes pointed down her nose. Lincoln could only gape, indignation bubbling up inside of him like a geyser. She came to him - she pestered him for a week to touch her between her legs, and the night he finally did it, she crawled into his lap and basically forced him to. Ten or not, she wasn't innocent.

Was she?

"I forgive you, though," she said smugly, "now come seek God's forgiveness." She nodded to the spot next to her. "Of all the people in this house, you need it the most."

Lincoln's anger exploded. "Fuck you and your God," he snarled. Lyra gapsed, and the dumb look on her face made him that much madder; he was shaking now, a bitter mixture of hate, humiliation, and regret boiling in his chest like the arcane contents of a witch's cauldron.

Before he could do or say anything he would regret, he turned on his heels, stalked out, and slammed the door behind him, the sound whip-cracking through the house like thunder. He took deep, chest blasting breaths and dug his fingernails into the padding of his palms. How could she say that to him? How could she imply that what he did was fucking molestation? No, it wasn't normal, and yes, it bothered the hell out of him, but he loved his daughters, and his son, and he would never hurt them.

Intentionally.

He immediately thought of Lemy. He never meant to hurt his son, but he did. He didn't ignore him on purpose, but he still ignored him - he was so caught up in the girls that he overlooked Lemy, thought deep down that Lemy didn't need him as much.

Or maybe Lemy was right when he said that to get his attention, you had to suck his dick. It wasn't that he was over the moon about being with his daughters, it was just…

Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach.

Jesus Christ might not be real, God Himself might not be real, and there may be no angels in heaven or demons in hell, but Lyra ws rght abotu one thing: He was a piece of shit.

* * *

Lemy loved sleeping between Gwen and Lizy, each snuggled up on one side with their heads resting on his shoulders and their hands on his chest. They both looked like angels. D'awwww. He did not like the body heat, though, goddamn; every morning he woke up feeling like he got flash fried in a horrible accident involving faulty transistor tubes. I'll have the roasted loser ala fag, hold the headband.

This morning was no different - he shambled bleary and half-naked to the bathroom near dead with heat poisoning and fell in line behind...he looked up. No one. Huh. Okay, then. He went into the bathroom, took a fat piss, then came out just as, down the hall, Lyra emerged from her room. He started to speak, but she turned and he caught sight of the cross around her neck. Oh, right, she's suddenly Christian now. I know teenagers go through phases, but I expected a little more build up, instead she walked out the door as...I dunno, cool, then came back through it a few hours later like Jerry Fallwell on a drunken tear.

He kind of expected her to reach out her neck like that Rick Grimes meme (tripping all day, Coral) and bite his sinful fucking head off, but instead she flashed a tired Trojan horse smile. I call it that because after yesterday, something tells me it's hiding something...like a thirst for righteous fury or something. Idk. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning," he said cautiously. She called him envy or something yesterday, and that really bothered him. Who the fuck do I evny? What do I envy? It's not like I sit there Oh, snap, Dingleberg next door has the Buschmaster 6000 weedeater. I want one so bad. Lucky fucking bastard. My life isn't perfect, I'm not perfect, but, I mean, I'm settled in by now, so…

Lyra was coming toward him and he froze. Un-oh. This is the part where I get smited; there's gonn be nothing left but a little bitty pile of ashes and a headband. Wait, I'm not even wearing my headband. No one's gonna know it's me; they're gonna think Lupa spilled her ashtray again and vacuum me up with all the other dust and debris.

Instead of going Old Testament on his ass, Lyra looked down at him with a sad glint in her eye that made him uncomfortabe. She laid her hand on his bare shoulder, then yanked it back. "Great, now I need to go pray," she sighed.

What, touching a sinner gets you dirty now? Did my godless evil flow into your and taint your precious little heart?

Rolling on, Lyra said, "We need to have a talk about you and the things you do."

Lemy rolled his eyes. The things I do. Look, if you wanna argue that incest is objectively wrong, okay, I'll entertain that; not porking your family members is kind of a soceital cornerstone...it's so ingrained in us that it's, like, part of our DNA now. You can imagine where I stand on the issue (between my naked, panting sisters), but okay, your aguement has some validity. What we have is -

"Like raping Lizy and taking advantage of Gwen"

Imagine Lemy as the Hindenberg. Don't know what that is? Look it up, kid - a blimp that blew up and dropped out of the sky while some drama queen thirties radio announcer screamed and cried in the background. That's to say, those words made him fucking crash. "What?"

Lyra nodded. "Gwen is a fragile girl, Lemy, you realize this and so do I. You have lead her into sin and manipulated her so that you don't have to stay faithful and can have evil sex with Loan. I will call what you and her do sex, but with Lizy, who is seven, it is rape."

Lemy didn't often get mad - really mad - but he did then; his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. "No the fuck it isn't."

"Yes it is," she said smugly, "you are following in our father's footsteps. I tremble to think what you will do to your own daughters one day."

That was like dropping a single mentose candy into a bottle of Coca-Cola; before he could stop himself, he was shoving past her, knocking her aside like a small but pissed off freight train.

"You can't hide from God, Lemy," she called after him, "He sees your ass wherever you go!"

If he wasn't sputtering with rage he could have told her to go fuck herself. Raping Lizy? Oh, fuck that. How fucking dare she accuse me me of raping Lizy? T-That is not what happened and she knows it.

I fucking tortured myself over Lizy - I didn't want to be with her at first; I went through every emotion you can imagine with this, had every thought. And you know what? Even after I had sex with her, even after I realized how much I enjoyed it, even after loving her, I felt like a piece of slime.

To a degree, Lyra isn't wrong.

If we were normal people.

We're not.

See, long before any of us kids, Lana, Lola, and Lucy fell in love with Dad. Lisa developed a chemical or something to alter Dad's brain so that he would return their feelings. I don't know how it worked, but I imagine it involved stimulating the production of naturally occuring hormones. Their children, us, were born with a natural overabundance of these hormones. I know it's confusing, I'm not a scientist, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night, so hear me out. All of us are pyshoclogically different from normal kids our own age. For one, we all started piberty much, much earlier. I was eight and popping boners like crazy; Leia was five when her chest started to bud; Lizy's seven and while she doesn't have much in the way of breasts, she has more than a seven-yar-old ought to...plus her body. How many little kids do you know are shaped like women? She has hips, and ass, a figure far beyond her years.

The affects of this chemical aren't just biological, they're mental, too; we acheive sexual self-awareness sooner than others. Lizy knew what she wanted when she went after me….knew what it was and what it entailed. Could she be confused? Yes, that's a possibility, but no more confused than any female who's in love with a male. She could wake up one day and realize she doesn't really want to be my sister-wife (God, I hate that fucking term), but women in their forties and fifties reach similar conclusions all the time. It happens.

As for rape...I love my little sister. I love her as that, and I love her as more. I would never fucking hurt her. Never. That Lyra would accuse me of that...I wanna go back there and knock her fucking head off. Literally, I want to plow my sister in her stupid fucking face.

He didn't realize he was in his room, and pacing, until Gwen spoke. "What are you doing?" Her voice was thick and slow with sleep; she was propped up on one arm, her bleary eyes hidden behind her bangs. Lizy was curled up against her; every time he got up, he came back to them spooning, cuddling, or touching. It was mad cute; pretty soon he was going to walk in on them fucking. Gwen did say I'm gonna wind up banging your little sister, Freak, just so you know. Alright, fine with me, just let me watch ;)

Wouldn't it be funny if my harem fell in love with each other and left me?

No, no, it'd be better if they all fell back in love with Dad. You know how it goes, we don't want Lemy to be too much like Lincoln, so we lump literally every female in with The Log.

"That bitch," Lemy growled.

Gwen looked confused. "Leia?"

"No, Lyra." Now that she reminds me, yeah, Leia's still being a bitch too. I tried to talk to her last night and she said Go away, you're not allowed to talk to me anymore. Like really? Get over it.

"What did Lyra do?" Gwen asked.

What did she do? She jammed her fingers into an open wound that was just beginning to heal and now I'm starting to flood with self-doubt like Johnstown, Pennsyl-fucking-vania. "She said I rape Lizy." He was surprised that his voice cracked with emotion, but he really shouldn't have been. He was a certified bitch, after all.

No, you know what? Fuck that, he wasn't a bitch. That word...rape...every time he thought of it in associaton with Lizy, an image of her bloodied and screaming in pain, her eyes brimming with terror, streaked across his mind, and it hurt.

He wasn't doing that.

He would never.

"W-What?" Gwen asked. She pushed herself up and sat on her butt, the blanket pooling in her lap. "She said that?"

"Yeah," Lemy said and threw one hand at the door. The mean woman who hurt my feelings is that way, officer. "And said I'm taking advantage of you." He put his hands on his hips and looked down at his feet. He loved Gwen just as much as he loved Lizy; she meant the whole world to him.

Do I have to go repeat that whole line about her being an angel who came to me in my darkest hour? Apparently I do, because people think I fucking took advantage of her now, like I'm some kind of hand wringing monster. Does Lyra really fucking think that about me? That I maniulate Gwen and molest Lizy? I'm literaly worse than Hitler, I guess.

Frowning, Gwen climbed over Lizy, being careful not to wake the little girl, and came over; she wore pale purple panties and a white tank top. Lemy noticed this because it was hot and he needed to focus on something beside the dark feelings beginning to fester in his stomach.

She put her arms around his shoulders from the side and pulled him into a tight hug, the clean smell of her hair filling his nostrils and the warmth her body stored up overnight flowing into him and thawing the ice forming in his bones. "I love you," she said and ran her fingers through his hair. He turned his head and the tips of their noses brushed; her eyes were intense with earnesty. "You aren't taking advantage of me, and you aren't raping Lizy." She looked away. "Lyra's just…"

"A dick," Lemy said sourly.

Gwen opened her mouth, then closed it, then said, "Well...she's acting like a dick."

Lemy snaked his arm around Gwen's hips. Looking into the eyes of the girl he loved...of a girl he loved...it didn't seem like such a big deal; fuck Lyra.

Only it was. Deep in his heart, he still nursed lingering love for his older sister, and even aside from those, he loved her as a person. Back when he was being blueballed left and right, she was the only one who realized it and said Hm, better help the poor guy out. Leia didn't do that, Leia was planning to get him hot and bothered and then walk away. She straight told him that. I was going to have fun teasing you and then go do something with Dad, but I got carried away. You know why that is? Leia, in case you haven't noticed, is a little dominatrix. Not literally, but she likes to be in control and to call the shots. It gets her off. A power fetsh, you know? Lots of people have those. She wasn't getting that from Dad. With him, she was this submissive little daddy's girl and probably didn't even relalize she was into being the dom because she'd never tried - he was naturally in charge. When she started that crap with me the day we did the lemonade stand, it clicked; she was ordering me around like a dog and it turned her on so fucking much she couldn't think straight. Once she understood that, there was no going back. Dad could have walked in on us making out on the couch, and Leia would have shooed him away because…

Dude, I'm mad off track. Sorry. Long story short, Lyra's a great person and I love her deeply, so her walking around like a fucking prick and being a douche is a huge problem. And her telling me I'm a rapist hurts worse than, idk, Lacy calling me a rapist.

Sensing his inner turmoil, Gwen kissed his lips and skimmed her fingertips across his cheek. She smiled, and the love he saw made him smile back. "You're a wonderful boyfriend, a wonderful brother, and a really wondering guy, Freak," she said. "And Lyra...she'll probably calm down at some point. I hope."

Yeah, he hoped too.

He really did.

* * *

Leni Loud, like, had a problem: She wanted a baby but Lincy's swimmers were drowners now and that meant no more babies. Pout. She knew he was going to get fixed and she didn't mind - we already have lots of kids in Gen 2, we really don't need anymore, stop making them - but then all the babies grew up and she totes minded again. She loved her daughter Liena to pieces (they were besties and Liena made the best cookies), but she wasn't a baby, and Leni wanted a baby.

Babies are hard to adopt, though; the baby-adopterer people make you pay lots of money and Lincy didn't have money. *Deepens voice to sound like Lincy* If you want to adopt, Leni, it's going to have to be an older kid, Sigh. FIne, I guess I'll just be babyless Leni and live in an empty nest. *Crosses arms*

The more she thought about it, though, the more she warmed to it. Babies are fun and all, but big kids are lots of fun too, and there are lots of big kids in "The System." Leni didn't know exactly what "The System" was, but Lori tried to expain it once, and Leni got this: Big kids sometimes get abandoned by their families - they're sad, alone, and no one loves them. Isn't that terrible? How could someone just stop loving their big kid like that? Like...okay, I get it, you like babies, so do I...but how can you kick your big kid away like trash?

Imagining all those sad big kids out there with no one to love them made her really sad, and sometimes it made her cry. She had lots of love in her heart, and if no one else was going to share theirs with all the alone kids, fine, move over, I'll do it.

She couldn't adopt all the children, though; Lincy said if she really wanted to adopt, she'd have to settle for one.

Okay, Lincy, one. *Crosses fingers and whispers* to start with.

Anyway, that morning, Leni sat on the couch and stared absently at the TV while trying to decide if she wanted a boy or a girl. She already had a daughter, so it would be way cool to have a son. She could, like, take him to ball games, and they could play in the mud, and zoom trucks across the living room floor as they made motor sounds with their lips. Beep, beep, Leni and son, coming through!

On the flop side, she really missed having a little girl to do make-up and Easy Bake Oven with. She thought about when Liena was a child a lot and she longed to go back to those days so bad it hurt.

She tilted her head to one side as if to dislodge a decision. Having a little boy and a little girl would be perfect, but Lincy said she could only have one. One is not very many, Lincy, not very many at all. How can you expect a Leni to be happy when you force her to make such a hard choice? No matter which gender she picked, there would always be a hint of buyers' remorse.

Deep in her head, two previously unconnected wires touched and produced a spark. She brightened and perked up. Loooooooophooooooooole! What if she, like, found Siamese twins who were boy-girl? They're attached so, it's basically like they're only one person but they're really two people. What could Lincy do if she said ooooh, I want that boy over there...the one with the girl stuck to his forehead? Get a chainsaw and cut them apart? Nope! He'd have to cave and let her have her way.

A sly smirk crossed her lips and she narrowed her eyes to mischevious slits. Everyone thought she was dumb but do dumb people find inventive ways around rules and stuff? Uh-uh, only smart people did, fargo she was smart.

She whipped out her phone, typed SYMEEZ TWINDS BOY GIRL NEAR MEE into Google, and hit SEARCH. Her happiness crashed when Google said simease twins can't be boy and girl, they have to be boy-boy or girl-girl. Really? Ugh!

Maybe she wasn't as smart as she thought.

Sigh.

Okay, back to the drawing thingie. She really wanted a boy but she really wanted a girl too. She had a girl already...in fact, she had more than one girl. Since she loved kids and was the best auntie in the whole wide world (sorry, Luan, you gotta get up preeeeetty late to be better than me!), she helped with her sisters' kids a lot. In a way, they were almost kinda sorta like her kids too (but not really), so she had, like, eight daughters and only one son, Lemy. That's a lot of pink and not very much blue.

Hmmm.

Alright. Boy.

I want a boy.

Now -

Her train of thought detrailed when someone knocked on the door. Ooooh, maybe it was the stork with a son!

J/k, I know that's not how babies happen. Babies happen when your brother turns the lights down low, puts on soft music, and makes sweet, slow, passionate love to you. Ummm, Leni liked that a lot.

Knock-knock-knock.

Leni got up and crossed the living room, her hands dangling limply in front of her. She turned the knob and pulled the door open. A little girl, her pale blonde hair in a slack ponytail that laid over one shoulder, stood on the step. Her big brown eyes matched her skirt and jacket...oooh, and the fashionable beret on her head, and her full lashes quivered like kitty whiskers when she blinked. "Hi, ma'am," she said confidently, "I'm selling cookies to support my local Girl Scout troop. Would you like to buy some?"

Awwww, she was totes adorbs. Too bad…

A sly smirk touched Leni's lips, and she shifted her eyes back and forth as if searching for witnesses to her genuis. Nope. None. Shame. "Sure. Would you like to come in?"

* * *

Lupa Loud slipped a cigarette from the pack on the nightstand, stuck it into her mouth, and sparked it, the harsh smoke rolling into her lungs and calming her overwrought nerves, but only a little. A lot of people thought she was some tough nosed hardass who didn't feel - why they love that trope so much, she didn't know, but they did. In reality, she did feel...she felt a lot, in fact. Right now, she felt…

She wasn't sure exactly. It was like a hand with steely claws was nestled deep in her stomach, and every so often, it would clench, the nails raking across her soft insides. She had an abscessed tooth once - this was similar, a sort of pulsating throb that radiated out from her center like spidery lightning crackling through the night sky.

You might expect her to hem, haw, and dance around the subject, pretending to herself that she had noooo idea what was causing it, and you would be wrong. In her life, she had learned one thing above all else: Frankness is bestness. Ha. That was a joke. See? She had a sense of humor too, though it was dry and sometimes dark (she particularly liked suicide and school shooter memes, like the one where this goofy looking kid has a skillet at his desk frying an egg. Can't shoot up the school on an empty stomach). Why people circle the source of their problems rather than dealing with them head on confused her, but, eh, people are confusing creatures. If you can understand them, well...it's like Nietzsche said: If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares also back into you. What does that mean? It means if you truly understand human nature, you're already corrupted. Sorry.

Understanding yourself was important, though...and come to think of it, most people can't even manage that. H. P. Lovecraft wrote: The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.

What does that mean? That if we stare too long in the mirror, we won't like what we see, what we are. Lupa understood herself (hence the depression), and she kneely understood that she felt the way she did because of her brother, Lemy.

Last night, at dinner, she surrepdiously watched him from across the table - Gwen sat on one of his knees and Lizy the other. First of all, whoever made the dining room set deserves reconition because while none of those three were very big, they were big enough that the chair holding up was noteworthy. Second, Lemy was a lot more handsome than she'd ever given him credit for. He needed to lose the Bon Jovi hair, but other than that, he was actually kind of hot.

In fact, he looked a lot like Dad.

How, she couldn't quite pinpoint; she thought it was a combination of phyical features and personality traits - take one from the other, and they'd be as dismilliar as she was from Liby. Dad was a gentle, caring man, and so was Lemy; they were both also deep, loving...and kind of weenies. Look at them, neither one has very much muscle mass; they couldn't lift a jug of milk between them, but that was okay, because who gives a shit about muscles? Some girls, maybe - stupid, superficial ones - but not her. She cared about what was on the inside because, really, that's what counts.

Taking a drag from her smoke, she tapped it against the glass ashtry next to the clock and sighed, blue haze dispersing from her chapped lips. She drew her knees to her chest and leaned back against the headboard, a tiny, almost invisibe scowl crossing her face.

How long had it been since Leia told her she didn't know Lemy? A week? Two? Her days had a way of blending together into a wet, lumpy mass, so she didn't know, but it was long enough that she should have reached a conlusion. Was she in love with her brother or wasn't she? Did she want to have sex with him or did she want a "normal" relationship with him?

She thought of her father. Kind, loving, considerate...yet, there were times she could barely stand to look at him because when she did, she was reminded of the things they did, of how abnormal their dynamic was. A fater-daughter relationship and sex are like pepperoni pizza and strawberry ice cream - both wonderful on their own, but not together. God, never together.

Unfortunately, she was weak, and deep down...actually not so deep down...she liked it. She hated that she did, but there was something appealing in the dirty feeling she got when her father thrusted into her.

Ash dropped from the tip of her cgarette and landed on the front of her hoodie; she absently brushed it away and took another drag.

Knots. That's how she felt: Like she was in knots. She was trying so hard to undo them and see where each thread went, but she couldn't. She loved fucking her father but she hated it too; she wanted to fuck her brother but she didn't. In essence, she was a walking contridcition, the most transparent case of wanting to have cake and eat it too that had ever been.

She should talk to Lemy - get him alone and see where things lead.

Only...giving into sensation is pretty fucking stupid. People just loved acting on their emotions, and it lead to the most retarded outcomes imaginable. I feel like this so I'm justified in doing that. :Eyeroll:

What else could she do, though? Logic wasn't cutting it - knots, remember?

Talk to him, she decided….she would talk to him.

From there...God only knows…

She just hoped she made the right decision.

* * *

Lincoln rarely drank beer, but today, he really fucking needed it.

Last night, after his fight with Lyra, he lay awake in bed and staring into the darkness, wavering between anger and horror. Lyra was completely out of line calling him a child molester...but she was also right. Lupa said the things we do aren't normal and he said I know because he did. He'd known it from the day he took eight-year-old Loan into his lap and masturbated her. He spent years hating himself, years not delving too deeply into his own heart and mind because he didn't want to face what he had become, years making excuses and liking the slimey feeling that being with his daughters left him with.

Years having sex with them.

It wasn't molestation, though.

It couldn't be.

Before he fingered Loan the first time, and after a week of tormented indecisiveness, he went to Lisa. Given the rapid pace at which Loan's body and mind is maturing, she said, her seeking a sexual relationship with you is unsurprising. If you're worried about whether or not she can cosent, she can.

Lyra was the same way - percocious and mature beyond her years. All of his kids were, owing to their generic mutations. Sometimes, he thought, it was like they weren't children at all, at least the younger ones; they kind of platued when they hit Lyra's age. Lizy, Leia, Lupa, and Liby were all nothing like average girls in body and in mind. Lemy was not an average thirteen-year-old; even Lyra wasn't your typical seventeen-year-old.

He wasn't trying to justify having sex with them...just...it wasn't molestation. At all.

Before she left for work, Lori sat on the bed and squeezed his shoulder. Something's bothering you. What's wrong?

Normally, he wouldn't say anything - he'd keep it all inside and work through it himself, but he needed to get it off his chest. He opened his mouth...and surprised himself by breaking down in tears. I molested my daughters, he sobbed.

What? Lori asked incredulously.

He told her about what happened with Lyra, and she pursed her lips in annoyance. Lincoln, you know as well as I do that you never molested them. They came to you.

But I'm the adult.

So?

He thought back to Lupa, to the shame in her face after every time they had sex, to the way she always scurried out of the room as though trying to outrun her guilt. They were a lot alike, he and her - he did the same thing.

I should have known better.

Lori sighed. Look, she said, her tone softening, you did what was right. Right doesn't always feel right, but -

I'm not doing it anymore.

And that was it; with five words, he made up his mind. He would never touch one of his children again. Ever.

Even so, the damage, he feared, had been done, especially with Lupa.

Presently, he sighed and got out of bed; he called into work sick and hadn't moved for most of the morning. He threw his robe on, stepped into his slippers, and went down the stairs, intent on finishing off that six pack that had been sitting in the back of the fridge since the last Fourth of July. At the bottom of the steps, he rounded the newlpost, crossed through the living room, and went into the kitchen. Leni sat at the table with a girl he'd never seen before; she was blonde with big eyes and wearing a brown Girl Scouts uniform, a beret perched atop her head and a green sash across her chest. "These brownies are really good, Miss Leni," she said around a mouthful.

"There's totes more if…" Leni trailed off when she saw Lincoln. "Hi, Lincy!"

The little girl twisted to look over her shoulder, and Lincoln forced a disarming smile. I won't hurt you, honey, it said, I only do that to my own little girls.

His heart twinged and he felt like crying again. "Hi," he said, fighting hard to keep his tone light and friendly, then to Leni, "who's your friend?"

The girl opened her mouth, but Leni cut her off, "Lincy," she said proudly, "meet our new son, Lyle."

Lincoln's brow pinched and so did...uh...Lyle's. First of all, new son? Quickest goddamn pregnancy ever. And second...that's a boy? He squinted like a man whose reading glasses were MIA (again, sigh) and...yeah, there's no way in hell that's a boy. Look at her eyelashes! Her delicate, feminine features! Lips, cheekbones….you might be able to draw a picture of a girl and pass it off as a boy (there's a penis between his legs, I swear, guys), but...no.

'Lyle' turned to face Leni. "Miss Leni, I'm not -"

"Hush, Lyle, Mommy's talking." She beamed at Lincoln. "Isn't he the cutest little boy ever?"

"I'm not -"

Lincoln sighed. "Leni...that's not a boy." He lifted one hand in 'Lyle's' direction and let it drop against his leg with a slap.

"Yes it is," Leni said serenely.

"No, it's not."

'Lyle' looked back and forth between them, his/her/it's features pinching in worry. "Leni," Lincoln said not even knowing where to begin. "Boy or not, first off, that's not our kid."

Shrugging unaffectedly, Leni said, "I adopted him."

Lincoln ignored her. "And...and next, she is obviously a girl." He looked at the child. "What's your name, sweetie?"

She started to say, but Leni rolled her eyes. "His name is Lyle. I told you this."

Lincoln sighed. He really didn't need this right now. The little girl looked afraid now, and his heart went out to her. "Why don't you run along? I need to talk to Leni."

She nodded, then got hurriedly to her feet. "Uh...thank you for the brownies," she said and rushed off before Leni could stop her. When Lincoln heard the front door open and close, he went over to where 'Lyle' had been sitting and dropped.

"Leni…"

Leni crossed her arms and pouted.

"Leni…"

"I want a son," she said sullenly.

"I know," he said heavily. "And if you want to adopt, okay, we can start seriously looking into that. You can't keep snatching random kids off the street, though."

Surprisingly, this was not the first time this had happened. Last July he was sitting in his chair reading the paper when he phone buzzed. Expecting a text from Leia or Lyra (daddy, I need you ~ 3), he took it out only to find an Amber Alert - little two-year-old Asian girl went missing from the mall. Fifteen minutes later, Leni came through the door with a surprise. She stepped aside, and behind her, eyes filled with fear and tears, was a little Asian girl about two. I adopted a Chinese Leni said and fisted her hands in excitement. I found her outside Bed, Bath, and Beyond at the mall so that's what I named her. I call her Bed for short.

Ever have a heart attack? Lincoln hadn't, but he came reaaaaaaal close that day. Explaining it to the police was much easier than he thought it would be, though; he and Leni only spent six hours in handcuffs. He was certain it would be at least eight.

"But he was so cute," Leni said and threw up her hands. What did you expect me to do?

Lincoln sighed. "That was a girl," he said, "but regardless, kidnapping is a crime and you're going to wind up in jail if you keep doing it." He reached out and took her hand.

"I know," Leni said, "I just really want a baby."

"I understand. I'd ask Lemy, but he's a little young. Plus, for right now, he's sterile too, so…"

* * *

What follows is a brief montage of Christian Lyra's exploits that day set to music.

We speak of the devil

He's no friend of mine  
To turn from him is what we have in mind

Liby sat at the desk in her room, humming and cleaning her MK-47 with a rag. She wasn't planning on using it ever again, but sometimes she liked to reminisce about the old days, and she did it surrounded by her gear. An assortment of handguns were fanned out across the table, as were grenades, night vision goggles, and other Spy Kids 4 type stuff.

Someone spoke behind her, and she jumped, her hand instinctively reaching for a Glock. "Murder is a sin, you know," Lyra said.

Oh boy, Liby thought with a mental sigh, here comes Billy Graham. Should I ignore her? Yep. I should ignore her.

Resuming her hum, she went back to wiping the stock.

"Killers burn in hell," Lyra pressed.

Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmm. Cleaning my guuuuuuunnnn.

"You'll spend eternity in the lake of fire. You'll thirst but never find relief; hunger but never eat; you will roast and roast and roast but never die. Your shit's gonna be all fucked up."

Liby picked up her Glock, turned with a flourish, and pointed it at Lyra; the older girl's face paled and she stumbled back with a cry of alarm, then ran away with her holy tail between her legs. Liby tilted her head to one side and puckered her lips in a smug little grin. What was that, Christian Lyra? I couldn't hear you over the sound of you peeing in your panties.

She laughed out loud. The best part was: The gun wasn't even loaded. See? She jerked the trigger.  
BLAM!

She startled and a hole appeared in the wall beside the door.

"LIBY!" her mother screamed; she sounded mad.

Liby hung her head.

"I'll get the plaster!" Lana called excitedly.  
Just a liar and a thief

The word tells us so  
We like to let him know  
Where he can go

Loan started the day feeling fine - a little tired, but that was to be expected after spending all night playing Call of Honor: Homefront. That was her new favorite game: It was set during WWII and your mission was to sell warbonds and adhere to government rations like a patriotic American. She liked the deathmatch mode - you and a bunch of other people had to compete to sell the most war bonds and to have a more Meatless Monday than anyone else. Hahaha, she cheated like an asshole, though, and sold stuff on the black market.

By noon, however, her stomach turned and she felt like she was gonna hurl. It was her day off from Flip's but she went down there anyway to grab her paycheck and made the grave mistake of eating a hotdog from the roller. It was so crunchy it nearly shattered her teeth, but hey, it was free.  
She was just about to start a new game when her guts exploded and started to come out of her mouth. Eyes widening in alarm, she jumped to her feet and rushed into the bathroom - she was on her knees puking her life out when Lyra spoke from behind her.

"I see God's punishing you for your sins."

Loan's eyes narrowed even as the rest of the Flipdog splattered into the bowl. She was not in the mood for this shit right now - not that she ever was, but especially not right now.

Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater, she turned a slow, withering look over her shoulder; Lyra leaned against the frame, her arms crossed and her brows lifted in condescension. "Fuck you," she snarled.

Lyra grinned evilly. "Sorry, but I gave up incest when I found out how disgusting and unnatural it is."

Loan's grip on the toilet rim tightened so much she was surprised the whole thing didn't crumble. She didn't like being called sloth or told she was being punished by someone's imaginary friend, but she really didn't like hearing that what she did with Lemy was disgusting. What he made her feel was beautiful and right...if Lyra didn't like it, she could fuck off and die. "Leave me alone," she said.

"No one who rapes her little brother will be permitted into the house of the Lor -" Lyra's words trailed off in a scream when Loan sprang at her.

When things are going wrong  
You know who to blame  
He will always live  
Up to his name

Lyra sat dejectedly on the back porch step, her face in her hands. Her friend from the church, Mrs. Applewhite, said that her family would be intially resistant to her witnessing, but this was nuts. Liby tried to shoot her, Loan tried to beat her up (it took Lana, Lynn, Mom, Luan, and Dad to pull her off). How should I do it? She asked Mrs. Applewhite yesterday; they sat side-by-side in a pew before a giant cross from which hung The Savior, his features twisted in agony. You have to find your own way, dear; let the Holy Spirit guide you.

Hmm. Well, the way Mrs. Applewhite, Pastor Jones, and Deacon Koresh did it was by scaring the shit out of her. You do what with your father and brother? Deacaon Koresh exclaimed, his jaw dropping. My Lord, child, that's disgusting.

But…

Then they told her all about hell and what it was like: The fire, the bubbling pits of oil, your eyes perpetually melting from their sockets and your skin blistering but never burning off. Terror filled her and she accepted Jesus into her heart that very moment.

On her way home, she decided that she'd use the same tactic on her family - she would be a spirital drill sargent and turn them from heathen recruits into soilders in God's army.

Only it wasn't working.

Hmmm. Maybe she was being too hard on them. It wasn't like she wanted to be mean or anything, she was just scared for them; the thought of any of her family going to hell terrified her. She loved them all and if this was how she had to save them, then so be it.

She just had to try harder.

"Excuse me."  
Lyra looke up; Lacy stood behind her, a football tucked under one arm. Lyra drew aside so she could come down the stairs.

She hadn't witnessed to Lacy yet, she realized. "Hey, Lace?"

Lacy looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?"  
For a moment, neither one spoke. Then: "You know lesbianism will send you to hell, right?"

Lacy rolled her eyes.

"You need to take this seriously," Lyra said. "Maggots will eat you, Lacy, then spit you back up and eat you again. You will be boiled in a pit of simmering blood; demons will rape you with pitchforks; all the serial killers to ever live will take turns with you, and they won't be gentle about it." The volume of her voice increased with passion as she imagined all of these horrible things happening to her little sister; tears welled in her eyes and she fought them back. She had to be strong; her loved ones needed her.

A dark shadow flickered across Lacy's face. "I think I'll just go to the park."

With that, she disappeared around the side of the house and into possible damnation.

Lyra wept.

He's never been the answer  
There's a better way  
We are here to rock out  
And to say

Lupa stood in her doorway, her eyes pointed at Lemy's door. Loan was sick in bed, Gwen was visiting her friend Marsha, and Lizy went to the park with Lacy...which meant he was alone.

Her stomach twisted and her normally flatline heartbeat quickened. She was scared of what would happen if she went in there, scared that she would make the wrong decision, as she had so many times in the past, scared that there were no right choices.

The best cure for being nervous about something is to forge ahead - it's like slashing a knot.

She took a deep breath and started down the hall, but stopped when Lyra came up the stairs. Their eyes met...and Lyra opened her mouth.

Lupa wasn't extremely close with any of her sisters, but she'd always been cool with Lyra. Lyra was a lot like her and a lot like Lemy, so of course they would get along. After last night, though, and what happened with Loan earlier, Lupa already knew what kind of bullshit the purple wearing Christian was going to come out with, and she did not want to hear it.

So she shot it out of the sky. "Don't even. I'm not into hearing fariytales about some judgemental fascist who spits people off a conveyor belt then tortures them for all eternity if they don't kiss his ass. Take that Santa Claus level crap somewhere else."

Lyra flinched as if struck. If they were boxers, she would be on the ropes, dazed but still in the fight. Better finish her off. "That's right, God isn't real, honey. I mean, come on, you don't really believe a snake tempted someone to eat an apple, do you? That's just a story someone came up with to explain why we're here. There are a million creation myths and they're all just as dumb and over-the-top as Adam and Eve. Do yourself a favor and get a better hobby, like stamp collecting."

"This isn't about me," she said. Her eyes shimmered wetly and her lips quivered. Looks like I struck a nerve. Should I move in for the kill?

Nah, she's been kind of a dick lately but I don't wanna hurt her too bad. "That's what they all say," she said. "Now get the fuck out of my way."

To hell with the devil  
To hell with the devil

Leia sat stiffly on her bed, arms crossed and a deep glower on her face. In the past two days (or had it been three?) she'd gotten four or five hours of sleep and she hadn't eaten save for a Pop Tart that tasted like cardboard.

Inside, she was a roiling mess of emotions: Anger, sadness, longing, and pain...lots of pain. She wasn't used to feeling this way - she was pretty and smart and why would she ever be depressed? - and she didn't know how to handle it. For the billionth time, she thought of Lemy telling her that they couldn't have sex anymore, of how sharply those words cut her. She didn't say this to anyone, not even to him, but she liked him. A lot. He was quiet, which she wasn't overly fond of, but he was funny and intelligent when he wanted to be, and he communicated so much with his eyes and touch - when she was with him, she felt things she'd never felt with Dad, warm, fuzzy, stupid things.

It wasn't until he rejected her that she finally stopped pretending to not know what that sensation was.

Love.

She was in love with him.

Here's a strange thought: She lost her virginity to him, and while she never placed any sort of value on that sort of thing, she kind of wished she could go back in time and do it all over again so that she could enjoy giving it to him. It didn't mean much then, but now...now she thought it would.

Sigh.

When he told her they couldn't be together, it was like being shot, and a thousand feelings tore through her - panic, first of all, then anger; didn't he realize how she felt? He should. He was smart; figure it out.

Since then, he'd tried to talk to her but she wouldn't listen to him: She was afraid of what he would say, afraid of what she would say, afraid that they wouldn't get together and afraid that they would but not work out. She desperately wanted him to come to her, to pofess his undying love, but as time went on, she wanted to do the same: To throw herself at his mercy. Look, I'm on my knees, that alone should show you how I feel. I don't beg and I don't plead for anything. But I'm begging and pleading for you.

No, she couldn't do that, she'd look stupid and pathetic.

"Hey, Lei."

Leia looked up; Lyra stood in the doorway.

"Get lost," Leia said, "I am not in a good mood."

Lyra opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and hung her head in defeat. "Okay," she said thickly and went away.

Now, Leia thought, should I do it or not…?

To hell with the devil  
To hell with the devil

Lemy sat back in his chair and frowned. His Zenith was acting funny and he didn't know why...excuse me while I kiss the sky.

Sorry, couldn't resist.

Anyway, he went to play one of his records and it started skipping really bad. At first he thought it was just the album, but when he put an 8-track in, the sound was all tinny and shit, and the tape got jammed. It presently sat before him, guts laid open; wires and transistor tubes everywhere, brah, looks like 1955 got drunk and ralphed.

Actually, if that happened, there'd probably be more nooses and homophobia in the mix, but whateves.

He'd been working on it for nearly an hour and still had no clue what was wrong with it. Stumped, bro, I am totally stumped. Maybe if I smoke some pot I'll figure it out. He reached for the top drawer but stopped when someone knocked on the door.

Oh, hell no, I only have enough for one. "Yeah?"

The knob rattled, then Lupa stuck her head in. "Hey, Lemy," she said; there was a slight tremor in her voice that stuck out like a sore dick because her tone was always flat and monotonous. "Can...can I talk to you?"

"Sure," Lemy said and lifted a hand when she made no move to enter. "Come in."

She stayed where she was for a beat, rooted in place by nerves, then came in.

Will she have sex with Lemy? WIll they stay brother and sister? And what brand of plaster did Lana use to patch the bullethole in Liby's wall? Find out in the next chapter of The BS Life of Lemy Loud.


	16. Dawn of a New Family

**I hope you enjoy this chapter because of all the shit I've ever written, this is the one that'll send me to hell.**

**Lyrics to Butterfly by Crazy Town (1999)**

Lyra Loud heaved a heavy sigh and stared at her hands; they were balled in her lap, her long, slender fingers woven together and her soft knuckles white with strain. She had been sitting on the edge of her bed trying to pray for the last hour, but her mind kept wandering back to her siblings and how poorly they reacted to her message. Mrs. Applewhite said that lots of Christians had been persecuted for their faith over the years, but that God always found a way.

One of the stories the old woman told her was of Saint Paul and his conversion on the road to Damascus. Paul hated Christians and did his best to fuck them over, but Jesus appeared to him in a flash of light and made him blind. After three days, one of Jesus's disciple laid his hands on Paul, and his sight was restored. If a man even as nasty as Paul can see the light, anyone can. Lyra found something deeply comforting in the tale of Paul finding God; it filled her with hope...hope that her father, mother, brothers, aunts, and sisters would see Jesus and be saved too.

Was she going about it right? She thought of the things she said to Lacy, Lemy, and Dad. They were hurtful and, in some cases, only half true, but tough love, they say, is best love. She did not believe that her father molested her nor did she believe that Lemy raped Lizy, at least not really. She was only ten when she came onto Dad, and while she was a mature ten, ten is still ten no matter how you cut it. Dad should have been firm and sent her away. Instead he took her to bed and ran his hands over her naked body, his palms brushing over the aching nubs of her nipples and then down her stomach, his fingers dipping into her quivering folds…

Her core twinged and her eyes widened. On no. Not again.

The worst part of her newfound belief system was, unsurprisingly, no sex. In the past twenty-four hours, she'd gotten aroused seven times - she counted because she wanted to work on bringing the number down eventually. This morning was the worst; she woke up wet, sticky, and grinding against a lump of blanket, her cheeks blushing and her lips parted. When her mind cleared and she realized what she was doing, burning shame descended over her and she stopped. Five minutes later, it started all over again; she laid her hand on Lemy's bare shoulder, and his warm, smooth skin, his developing muscle, the musky smell of his morning wood…

Now her core clutched like an angry fist, and she slipped off the side of the bed, kneeling and folding her hands in prayer. She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes tightly closed. "Please, God," she begged in shoulder-slumping desperation, "take these urges away."

Mrs. Applewhite said that when she felt really weak, she should imagine he sacrifice Jesus made so that we could find eternal life through him. She called up a vision of him on the cross, his arms outstretched, nails in his hands and feet and his head tilted to one side; it was too painful to look upon, so she reimagined him standing by a wide river surrounded by stark desert terrain, his back to her. He wore a flowing white robe, and his long brown hair spilled over his shoulders like royal vestments. He slowly turned, and when his clear blue eyes fell on her, love swelled in her like a balloon and she smiled.

Returning her smile, he held out his hand. Come unto me, child.

Suddenly it was as though she were actually there; the pounding desert sun blistered her skin, and a dry breeze blew across her sweaty face. She looked around and realized they were alone.

"Come to me," he said, "cum, my child~"

Lyra blinked.

Uh, Jesus?

"Come, come, my lady," he said, "you're my butterfly, sugar, baby."

Lyra's jaw dropped as hip hop infused music began to play from seemingly nowhere.

Come my lady  
Come come my lady  
You're my butterfly, sugar baby  
Come my lady  
Come come my lady  
You're my butterfly, sugar baby

Jesus started toward her at a strut, the wind blowing his hair and his head tilting back, He laid his hands on his chest and rubbed slowly.

Such a sexy, sexy pretty little thing  
Fierce nipple pierce you got me sprung with your tongue ring  
And I ain't gonna lie 'cause your loving gets me high  
So to keep you by my side there's nothing that I won't try  
Butterflies in her eyes and looks to kill

His robe fell open, and Lyra's eyes went to his rippling chest, his pecs the color of Galilean sand and glistening with sweat. Lyra's stomach panged and her pussy dampened. No! No, God, please! She tried to look away, but her gaze was drawn to his defined abs, his navel, the V pointing down to his rod and staff. Come get baptized, girl.

Lyra swallowed; her heart pounded and her flesh burned with heat.

Time is passing I'm asking could this be real  
'Cause I can't sleep I can't hold still  
The only thing I really know is she got sex appeal  
I can feel too much is never enough  
You're always there to lift me up

He threw the robe off and it flew away on the wind like the Holy Spirit in reverse, departing and leaving him a creature of lust and sin just like her. Lyra glanced hungrily at his penis and whined deep in the back of her throat. It was big, bigger than any she'd ever seen, bigger than Dad and Lemy combined, and it was hard, swaying from side to side as he approached, his fingers running through his hair.

Come come my lady  
You're my butterfly, sugar baby  
Come my lady you're my pretty baby  
I'll make your legs shake  
You make me go crazy  
Come come my lady  
You're my butterfly, sugar baby  
Come my lady you're my pretty baby  
I'll make your legs shake  
You make me go crazy

He stood before her now, revealed in all his glory. He was taller than Lyra expected, much, much taller, and buffer, too. She gaped up into his loving eyes, and her knees trembled; a goofy smirk crossed her lips and she giggled stupidly.

Jesus took her face in his rugged, nail-scarred hands and leaned inexorably in, his eyes locking with hers. She leaned her head back, and when their lips touched, electric jolts spider-veined through her body.

I don't deserve you unless it's some kind of hidden message  
To show me life is precious  
Then I guess it's true  
But to tell truth, I really never knew  
Til I met you. See I was lost and confused  
Twisted and used up  
Knew a better life existed but thought that I missed it

His tongue slipped into her mouth and she met it with her own, her palms pressing flat against his bulging chest. He deepened the kiss, and Lyra felt herself being called up in the Rapture. He pulled away and skimmed his thumbs over the ridges of her cheekbones; she shook uncontrollably like a virgin schoolgirl alone with her boyfriend for the first time, and her whole body smoldered with unholy passion.

Gently, Jesus guided her to her knees, his hands tangling in her hair. His holy grail filled her world, and her eyes crossed looking at it. "Take, eat," he sighed, "this is my body."

My lifestyle's wild I was living like a wild child  
Trapped on a short leash paroled the police files  
So yo, what's happening now?  
I see the sun breaking down into dark clouds  
And a vision of you standing out in a crowd

She looked up at him as if for permission, and he nodded down at her from on high. A rush of giddiness came over her; she wrapped her hand around his pulsing erection, pressed her lips to his leaking tip, and took a deep breath of his scent.

God, I missed this.

She flicked her tongue against his head, and his breath caught.

You filled that empty space with the love I used to chase  
And as far as I can see it don't get better than this  
So butterfly, here is a song and it's sealed with a kiss  
And a thank you miss

She bobbed her head down...then jumped with a scream when someone spoke. "Ly'?"

Her mother stood in the doorway, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Lyra panted for air and swallowed hard; her heart slammed unsteadily against her chest, and the fabric of her underwear was sodden with sin-filled arousal. She could feel her skin blushing...and she could feel her nipples aching to be touched, kneaded, rolled between strong, calloused fingers.

Getting control of herself, she licked her dry lips. "H-Hey, Mom, what's up?"

"We gotta talk about this shit you're on," she said.

Lyra's brow crinkled. "What shit?"

"This God trip," Mom said, "you're driving everyone nuts, dude. That shit you said to Loan? Pretty fucked up."

Lyra unfolded her hands and smoothed the front of her shirt just so she had something to do as she replied. "Well, it's pretty fucked up what she does to Lemy."

"She's doesn't rape him," Mom said tightly, "no one rapes anyone around here, that's bogus and you know it. You pestered your dad forever to fuck you -"

"I was ten."

"That's no excuse. You were doing it last week too."

She had her there, but… "I saw the light. I'm saved now."

Mom snorted. "You're the same now as you were then. You're turned on right now. I can smell it."

A hot, shameful blush crept across Lyra's cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She knew...she could smell it too, a dank, humiliating, and crotchy odor thick in the air. She thought back to her "encounter" with Jesus, and shivered, whether in delight or revulsion, she couldn't tell.

"You need to come off it, alright?" Mom said. "You wanna be a holy roller, that's fine, but swinging around like a fucking dick isn't."

Lyra braced herself for an argument. "This is important. If you and everyone else keeps up their sinful ways…"

"Don't worry about what me and everyone else is doing," Mom said. "Worry about you."

Before Lyra could protest further, Mom turned and pulled the door closed behind her, leaving Lyra alone with her shame, guilt, and weakness.

* * *

One of the perks of having a job was having money to buy your own shit - since starting work at Flip's, Loan had taken to stocking her room with bags and bags of Doritos and cases of Mountain Dew...sweet, sweet Mountain Dew. She lived on junk: Her blood was a mixture of soda and Monster; her fingers were stained a permanent shade of Cheetos orange; and Lemy once told her that her girl cum tasted like potato chips. That last one made her laugh. Really? He said he liked it, though, and he must, because sometimes he spent forever eating her out. God, she loved the feeling of his tongue writing love letters to her body, it made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Which wasn't something she was used to - her default mode for years had been "cold and hard." She wasn't complaining, though. It was...it was nice. Really, really nice.

Isn't it funny how sometimes you don't know what you're missing until you do? She always knew, in a roundabout way, that she wanted more affection, but she had no idea how important it was to her. Since getting with Lemy, she'd come to realize just how sorely she missed love and tenderness. Saying that made her feel kinda gay, but it was true, with him she felt like a completely different person, a better person, a happier person. When they crossed paths in the living room or going opposite ways on the stairs, she couldn't help hugging him, or kissing his forehead, or even just squeezing his shoulder. She was like a woman rubbing a statue of Buddha for luck, only for her it was...I dunno, love or something. Like she said, she wasn't used to this junk. It was all brand new to her. Scary new...and exciting new.

Anyway, being sick that day from that damn Flipdog, she spent the vast majority of it in bed, drinking one bottle of Mountain Dew after another in hopes of calming her stomach. Around 4, she finished the last one, and that was that: She did the Dew and all she got was this dumb T-shirt.

Whatever.

An hour later, though, she changed her tune to I'm thirsty, I need to get up and get a drink. Her guts still felt like an industrial dryer on the highest setting and she was warm under the covers, so getting up was pretty much the last thing in the world she wanted to do.

Fuck it, I'll dehydrate.

Yeah...she changed her mind after another twenty minutes. Fun fact: Loan almost always had a drink nearby because being thirsty is gay.

Sighing, she shifted out of bed and got to her feet; her stomach whirled and her head spun. Jesus, Flip, are you trying to kill people? I get it, you're a Jew, shit. He was bad too. Yesterday he had her rotating stock and she was finding shit that expired ten years ago left and right. Do you want me to toss this? She asked of an iced coffee drink that spoiled when she was still a virgin. Nah, he said waved his hand. Just put in the back.

Alright. Whatever.

Another Fun Fact: Flip wasn't such a bad guy when he wasn't cracking incest jokes. The day after her meltdown, she went back in and he actually apologized. I'm, uh, I'm sorry I called you Wrong Turn, he said, I won't fuck with you anymore. Something told her he only did that because he knew he couldn't replace her (she wasn't good...it's just that no one wanted to work for him), but, eh. Him messing with her directly lead to her and Lemy getting together, so as far as she was concerned, they were even.

Just don't tell him about her and Lemy - he'd never let them live it down. So, Loud, you are into your brother. Something something nothing but a headband and a smile. Humph. Actually, that didn't sound half bad. Given how good he ate her yesterday, he really deserved to have his soul sucked out of his dick.

The thought of warm, thick, salty cum flooding her stomach made it gurgle sickly. Ugh. I don't like spitting, so...not today.

In the hall, she winced at the light and cringed when Liena's voice stabbed her in the ear like an icepick...or a rapist's dick. "Hi, Loan. Have you seen Mom? She texted me that I have a new brother but I can't find her or him anywhere."

New brother? What? "No," Loan grumbled, "I haven't, now leave me alone." She turned and went down the hall before Liena could stop her.

Sighing, the younger girl put her hands on her hips. "Darn it. I really wanna meet Lyle."

At the bottom of the stairs, Loan paused when she felt her gorge rising. Oh, come on, this is retarded. I already puked twice, why am I not getting over it? Goddamn, it was a hot dog not...a death stick or something. Shit. Weak ass body. You're gay.

Shaking her head in self-disappointment, she rounded the newel post, crossed the living room, and went into the kitchen. Mom stood at the stove frying bacon, and Lisa sat at the table in a white lab coat, eating a sandwich while glancing through a stack of files. The smell of cooking meat hit Loan's gut like a fist, and that was it. "Oh, fuck." She slapped her hand to her mouth and started to turn, but it was too late; hot, loose vomit rushed up from her depths and sprayed through her fingers.

Mom looked at her and gasped. Lisa glanced up and frowned.

Loan bent, clapped her hands to her knees, and splattered the dining room floor with another volley, the reek of intestines wafting back into her nose and making her puke even more. Mom hurried over and laid her hand on her back. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice edged with concern.

Loan's chest muscles constricted and she wretched, her stomach empty. "I ate a bad hot dog at Flip's," she panted, her lips twisting at the bitter taste of bile, "I'm fine."

"How bad?" Lisa asked. She stood on Loan's other side now, her hands on her hips and her brows knitted sternly.

Aw, great, she's gonna lecture me now just like she does about my eating habits. Your diet lacks the proper nutritional value to sustain a woman your age. You should really consider ingesting healthier fare. Something like that; I can't really imitate her, especially after puking my guts out.

"I don't know, pretty bad," she said.

Mom sighed. "Loan, why would you eat a Flipdog? You know how literally disgusting those things are."

"I was hungry," Loan said defensively.

"And your inability to wait for a more viable option may very well prove injurious to your health," Lisa said. "Come with me."

Five minutes later, Loan sat in a chair in Lisa's lab. Loan hated it in here: It was cold, chrome, and the blinding white lights overhead stung her eyes. It reminded her of an alien spaceship in one of her PC games...and comet to think of it, Lisa with her big glasses, looked kind of like a bug person from Alpha Centauri.

The worst part, though, was that goddamn parrot, Renfield. It was green with a little orange tuft of hair on its tiny head, and every time it saw Loan, it talked shit.

"Squawk, it's the grumpy one, squawk. Who pissed in your Wheaties this time, Gus? Squawk."

Loan slitted her eyes and stared at the cage from her periphery. Lisa ripped open a package containing a needle and affixed it to a plastic bit shaped like a bell. Loan hated having her blood drawn, but she would never say so out loud because sounding scared was for fags. "I have been living in close proximity to you for the entire duration of your lifespan," Lisa mused as she rolled the sleeve of Loan's sweater up, "yet I still do not understand your habits. You knew the hot dog was spoiled on the first bite, did you not?" She rubbed iodine on one of Loan's veins, and Loan winced at how cold it was.

"Yes," she said honestly. She knew the moment it touched her lips. Hell, the moment she looked at it. "It was free. That's why I ate it."

Lisa hummed thoughtfully...then jabbed the needle into Loan's arm; Loan hissed through clenched teeth and closed her eyes. It wasn't the pain that bothered her, it was the strange and unpleasant sensation of blood leaving her body. She could feel every single drop draining from her vein, and it made her want to shudder. She didn't, though, because the last time she did, the needle moved and ripped her vein open, which lead to even more blood loss. If Lisa's dumb bird thought she was grumpy now, he'd just love her bleeding like a stuck pig and starting to freak out.

It was funny, she played violent video games all night long, but the moment she saw her own blood, she went pale and started to shake. People got the idea she was a badass...and she kind of was...until things got red.

"There is a maxim by which you'd do well to live. There is no such thing as a free lunch. Remember that."

Loan considered for a second, then turned to her aunt. "But it was free."

Lisa removed the needle from Loan's arm and capped the blood-holder-thing. "Was it?" she asked rhetorically.

"Yes," Loan said. She was starting to get annoyed. "I paid nothing for it."

"Hm. Okay. You can leave now."

Good; I still need something to drink. Loan got up and went to the door, her shoulders bunching when Renfield spoke. "Squawk, Bye, Gus, squawk."

Alright, fuck this. She turned and loomed over the cage, her teeth baring and her hands balling into fists. The parrot shrank back and covered its face protectively with its wings. "Shut the fuck up," Loan growled. She slapped the front of the cage, and it rattled.

Dumb bird.

Dumb Flipdog.

Dumb day.

* * *

Lupa sat stiffly on the bed with her hands in her lap and her eyes downcast; Lemy sat in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his brow knitted in worry. Lupa was stoic; she wasn't emotionless like a lot of people headca - I mean think she is, but she didn't wear her heart on her sleeve. She was like him: Still waters running deep and all that crap. She looked like something was bothering her, though, and when she looked like something was bothering her, it was really fucking bothering her.

Honestly, he had no idea what it could be. Come to think of it, they hadn't spent much time together over the last...he trailed off and thought. Eight months? Was it really that long? He counted and yeah, it was about seven, eight months since they really sat down and chilled - before he lost his V-card to Leia and met Gwen, before he even found the Zenith. They smoked pot that day, but they didn't talk much.

That was the day he tried to kiss her and she totally blew him off. LOL. Looking back, it was funny, but at the time, ouch. Like, okay, it's good to know that I'm sexually potent enough to lean in for a kiss and be completely ignored. I don't wanna go back and flog a dead horse that's already been buried eight months, but damn, that shit hurt, lmao. In fact, that incident right there is kind of symbolic of my life before, you know? I was right there in everyone's face and they just didn't see me. Isolated, alienated...whatever, that's old hat. Today's hot topic is What's Eating Lupa Loud. That was a movie, you know. Except for the Lupa Loud part; it was really Gilbert Grape. All I remember about that movie is a pre-Titanic Leo DiCaprio playing a mentally handicapped kid who kept climbing a water tower (he lived in a small town and they didn't have an arcade, so what else was he gonna do for fun?) and the mother...this biiiiiiiiiig fat woman. At one point she stands up and holds her hand out to her daughter. Get me my coat. Then the daughter comes back with a blanket. Hahahaha. See, she was so fucking -

Off track, gotta stop doing that. It adds nothing of substance.

Sorry.

Lupa took a sharp, shallow breath through her nose and started to speak, her eyes still on her feet, but stopped and seemed to collect her thoughts. Lemy watched, giving her time; when it looked like she wasn't going to get to there on her own, he nudged her. "So...what's up?"

She inhaled again and looked at him; her dark eyes were muddled with something he couldn't quite name, and her forehead crinkled slightly. "Well...I...I don't even know where to start." The last part came out in a rush of admission.

"From the beginning," he joked to lighten the suddenly tense mood, "that's where most people do."

She didn't smile, didn't roll her eyes, didn't even sigh; she just looked at him intensely, like a woman trying to decide if she wanted to pet the cute, headband wearing doggy...or mace it and kick it to death like Greg Stillson in The Dead Zone. Lemy squirmed a little under her gaze. I'm not an expert when it comes to women. I've been with far more girls than a lot of guys twice my age, and I've been in a relationship with three of them for...should I count from when I started with Gwen? I dunno, a while, but I really don't know much about them, you know? Nevertheless, I have a feeling that this is...related to….you know…

Sigh. I think she's here for the Lemy Twig. That's what I'm trying to say.

That might make me sound like a presumptuous ass, but it's true. Being a not expert with women, though, I have no clue, I'm tone deaf here. If I labor under that assumption and make the first move, it could either be Hey, thanks, Lem, I was kind of nervous because you're oh so great with your noodle arms, bitch level angst, and smaller-than-Dad's dick, or it'll be dude, awkward, why are you hitting on me? I don't like awkward, I did akward for years. If looking like a gameless loser who has to be lead into sex by the hand is the price I gotta pay to avoid it, then okay. No risk, no reward, Lynn always says, well, some risks aren't acceptable.

I know, it's a small risk, feeling kinda dumb, but still. She looks like she needs me to make the first move, though. Not necessaeily hitting on her, but taking charge of the situation and pushing her to open up. Something's on her mind and I guess I gotta dislodge it.

Leaning forward, he reached out his hand and laid it on the back of hers; her skin was warm and smooth, like silk, and she tensed ever so slightly, her eyes flickering like a candle in the wind. Their gazes met, then Lupa broke and looked away. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You can talk to me."

She nodded and sighed. "Alright. I don't...I still...I'm confused. Very confused."

"What about?" Lemy asked, even though he was starting to get an idea.

"We used to be really close," she said haltingly, "and we really haven't been lately."

She leaned back and pulled her hand out from under Lemy's; he took that as his cue and drew away. Before he got with Gwen, hell, even before he got with Leia and Lyra (if you can call having casual sex getting with someone), he and Lupa were close. They'd hang out in each other's rooms, listen to music, talk, and confide in each other. He was the only person (outside of Dad, probably) to know about her depression and her possible bipolar, and she was the only one who knew that he felt isolated from the rest of the family. He never got bold enough to tell her why (boo hoo, no one wants to have sex with me, wah wah wah), but he did confess the resultant emotions to her: The low self-esteem, the sense of worthlessness, the bitter melancholy.

Guess that makes two of us, she said, and for a long time after, knowing that she felt the same made it a little easier to cope with. Misery loves company, he supposed, and when you're miserable because you feel so alone in the world that you might as well be a ghost, company is the most beautiful thing you can have.

It suddenly occurred to him that while his problems had been mostly taken care of, hers hadn't; they'd been festering this whole time like cancer. Getting laid and acquiring three girlfriends didn't solve everything - sometimes he still got depressed seemingly for no reason at all, and if he was honest with himself...the thought of losing what he had scared the shit out of him. It would be sooo easy. I talk a big game, but I know I'm not great. I'm too quiet, I don't really have a "presence," I'm ugly, my long hair is gay...there are so many better guys out in there, stronger, more handsome, smarter. All it would take is for one of my girls to see that, and it's over. Gwen's the one I worry about most, tbh. Even now, after Lizy and Loan, I think I love Gwen the most, and if she ever realized what a loser I am and left me for someone better...I don't know if I could handle that.

See, I'm in touch with myself enough to know this, and to understand how easy it would be for me to become the jealous type. You can't leave the house; you can't talk to other guys; blah blah blah. Men who do that are like me - they're hurt and they don't think very highly of themselves. They see their girl talking to someone else, or simply existing in the same general area, and they think she's going to leave me for him. He's better than me. I'm garbage. Sometimes it comes from a need for power, and other times, I believe, it really does come from a place of love. Corrupted love, maybe, but love nonetheless. This girl means everything to me. I can't let her leave me; I'd go crazy. I think that way about Gwen, and sometimes I catch myself getting a little jealous; I pull back, though, because I know how fucked that is. I'm not gonna be a fucking Hitler in our relationship. If she leaves...sigh...I just gotta deal with it.

Anyway, off track again, shit. I can also be really fucking selfish. I always have a way of bringing it back to me even when I don't mean to. This isn't about me, it's about Lupa. The worst of my concerns were met when I started having sex with Leia and Lyra, Lupa, on the other hand, is the same as she always was; I got so caught up in my own shit that I kind of forgot that my sister...really the only person who I've ever been close to...is hurting in her own way.

Now he felt like a piece of shit.

"I know," he sighed, "I'm sorry, I've been, you know, just busy." That sounded flat and lame to his own ears, and he winced. I really wished I could articulate myself out loud the way I do in my head.

Lupa looked at him for an appraising moment, then shrugged one shoulder. "It's been me too. I could have always done this sooner, but I didn't. Mainly because…" she trailed off and ran both hands through her hair. "Because I think I'm into you...but I might not be."

Okay, I kind of expected the being into me part...but not the might not part. Look, again, I'm not saying I'm catnip to women, it's just...that's kind of something you either know or not. Well...I guess it doesn't have to be. The heart's a confusing fucking thing, and so is the human mind: Get them together and you're in for a head-scratching good time.

An uncertain, "Uh...okay," was all he could think to say.

Thankfully, Lupa elaborated. "You're a great guy, you really are, you're smart, witty, deep...and really cute too."

Brah, am I seeing shit or is that a very faint blush on her cheeks? I know I'm blushing too because...God, I hate when people suck my ass like that. Talk about awkward. Someone talks me up and I just stand there with my hands in my pockets not knowing what the fuck to do. T-Thanks…?

Shifting uncomfortably, Lupa stared steadily at her hands. "You're really the only person I've ever felt a connection with. I don't wanna sound over dramatic and say you're the only one who gets me but it's kind of true. You're really...you're really the only friend I've ever had." She blinked as if against tears, and Lemy didn't know whether to try and comfort her or give her space. Probably give her space; she was like him, so, yeah, space.

"That...that attracts me to you but...when I'm with you, I feel normal. I don't feel normal with Dad, I don't feel normal with Mom or anyone else. I'm fucked up in so many ways and what I do is fucked up. What we've always had isn't. It's been…" she trailed off and pursed her lips in thought. "Beautiful," she finally said and looked up, her gaze locking with his. "In a way, I want more, but I also don't. I don't want to ruin and pervert our relationship like I did with my father." Her eyes shimmered wetly and her lips started to quiver. Lemy was taken aback...then totally gobsmacked when she buried her face in her hands and broke down crying.

Everyone thinks Lupa's this tough as nails bitch, but Lemy knew differently; she isn't one note, she isn't only apathetic or indifferent, she's a human being with a wide array of complex emotions. Even so, he'd never seen her cry….or get overly angry. She expressed her emotions flatly, not passionately. This...this threw him for a loop, and for a moment he was frozen in shock.

Then her hurt, keening sobs penetrated the fog of stupidity in his brain, and he gave into instinct: He shifted onto the bed and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. He expected a little...hesitancy...but she immediately turned and nestled his face in his chest like a child seeking refuge in her father's bosom. Her thin frame trembled violently and hot tears soaked through the front of his shirt. He tightened his arm around her and stroked her hair with his free hand. "Shhhh," he said because, bro, what the fuck else can I say? People might think I'm good at this but I'm not.

Case in point, now: She wept even harder.

"I just want to be normal," she hitched, "I want to be someone else."

Her words cut him life a knife. He felt the same way sometimes, and now tears were welling in his eyes too. He rocked her back and forth, not knowing what to say. "You shouldn't," he managed, "you're great."

"No I'm not," she sobbed. "I hate myself. I wish I was dead."

"Don't say that," Lemy said sharply.

She didn't reply, and for a long time they sat together on the bed, Lupa in his arms and clinging desperately to the front of his shirt as if to keep from being swept away and Lemy rocking her steadily back and forth. The urge to kiss the top of her head came over him, but he resisted: Given what she said and what obviously prompted it, that might not be such a good idea.

After a while, her tears tapered into whimpers, then into silence. Lemy wanted to say something, but held off until the quietude was near unbearable. "It's Dad, isn't it?"

Lupa swallowed and nodded into his chest. "Kind of," she whispered. "And me. I'm not normal, and I never cared, but now...now I do. I want to be normal daughter and a normal sister. I don't want to fuck my father anymore. I don't wanna hate myself for doing it and I don't want to hate myself for liking it. I see families on TV and...and it makes me feel like a dweeb...but I see what they have and I want it so bad it hurts. I can't, though - I already destroyed my chances of that."

"No, you didn't," Lemy said, "if that's what you want, you change. It's never too late, you know?"

Lupa sniffed. "I fucked my father, Lemy. It's way too late."

"No, it's not," he urged. "People make mistakes. Yeah, it hurts, but there's always the future. You can change. It might not alter what's already happened, but you can start a new chapter and...and be different."

She was quiet for a while. "How am I going to live with myself?" she asked with stricken earnesty.

Lemy sighed. "By moving on."

She looked up at him, her red-rimmed eyes pooled with fear, incredulity...and hope. "Do you think I can?"

Giving her an encouraging smile, he patted her shoulder. "I do. And I'll help you. We can start right now." He looked around for a brother-sister friendly activity, then remembered his weed. "Wanna smoke some grass?"

She stared blankly...then a radiant smile touched her lips, spreading to her eyes and cheeks until she glowed. She shook her head and laughed. Lemy didn't know why, but whatever, he was just happy to see her feeling better. "Okay. Sure."

He started to get up, but the door opened and Gwen poked her head in, her eyes widening slightly when she saw them. "Oh, sorry, uh, I should have knocked." She laughed nervously and started to leave.

"No, it's fine," Lemy said and looked at Lupa. "We're just siblings."

Lupa's smile widened. "Yeah. I'm not into incest anymore."

Gwen frowned in confusion. "Oh, okay. Uh, your Dad wants you guys downstairs for a meeting."

"Okay," Lemy said. He patted Lupa's shoulder again, then took his arm back and got up. He went over to Gwen and took her in his arms. She smiled goofily and tilted her head back, her lips puckering for a kiss. He moved in, but she whipped her head away and he wound up smooching her cheek instead.

"Keep away," she taunted.

Oh? Well, I might not be a sports star like Lynn, but I can get kind of competitive. He took her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. The corners of her mouth turned up in a faint, playful smile, and he pecked her lips. "Got'cha," he said.

"I let you win."

He snaked his arm around her hips. "I know," he said.

In the living room, everyone, literally every member of the family who lived there, was gathered around, adults standing and sin kids on the floor and couch. Lemy dropped next to Loan, and Lizy popped up from beside Liby, came over and crawled into his lap, taking his right knee while Gwen took his left. He glanced at Loan; her face was strained and pale and her eyes clouded with misery. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I don't feel good," she stated.

"What's wrong?" Lemy asked worriedly. He wouldn't say you don't look good either, but it was true. She looked like death warmed over.

"I ate a bad Flipdog," she said.

Uh-oh. Flip's Mr. Krabs level Jewery was famous in Royal Woods - if he didn't sell a dog Monday, he kept it until Tuesday, if he didn't sell it Tuesday, he kept it...well it kept it ntl he sold it. "Why?" he asked, a stern edge creeping into his voice. Hey, when you love someone, you worry about them, right?

Loan shrugged. "I dunno. I'm dumb."

He started to reply, but Dad cut him off. He stood at the head of the room with his hands on his hips, Lisa to his left and Lori to his right (one's a clown, the other's a joker, get it?). He looked...in fact, he looked a lot like Loan. Sick. Pale. Like shit. "There are two things I have to say," he said. He looked at Lyra, and his face darkened. "First...Lyra, knock it off."

Between Lacy and Lupa, Lyra blinked and touched her chest. She opened her mouth, but Dad shut her down like Negan. "I'm not gonna have you running around here telling everyone they're going to hell." His voice was firm, resolute, and tinged with anger. "I don't care if you're a Christian now. That's not the problem. The problem is how you've been acting."

"But -"

Dad held up a forestalling hand. "No more. I am deadly serious. Don't even. I'm not an expert in theology but I know one Bible passage. Judge not lest ye be judged. You have no right to come into my home acting like you're higher and mightier than everyone else. You are not." Lemy blinked in surprise. Dad's voice was a low growl and his eyes were narrowed, lending him the appearance of a vicious dog. He'd seen his father get pissed, but wow, he was livid.

Glaring, Lyra crossed her arms.

"Don't give me that look. In the past twenty-four hours, you've demonstrated some of Christianity's worst traits. You haven't killed anyone, so you have that going for you. If you want to be a Christian, there are so many positive things you can be doing instead of...this." He waved his arms.

"I'm worried about you," Lyra cried and threw up her hands.

"You don't need to worry about us."

"Yes I do! You're all going to hell!"

Dad's face turned bright red, and for the first time in his whole life, Lemy was actually afraid of his old man. Lizy and Gwen both cringed against him when Dad took off. "NO ONE IN THIS HOUSE IS GOING TO HELL!" he screamed. "THERE IS NO HELL AND THERE IS NO GOD!"

"Yes there is!" Lyra screamed back, tears in her eyes. Everyone suddenly found something to look at other than father and daughter. Hey, hands. Nice to see ya, floor. "And you're all -"

Instead of shouting, Dad lowered his voice to a savage snarl that was somehow even worse. "Go to your room," he said and pointed up the stairs.

Lyra started to protest, but Lori jumped in. "I think you should stop."

Crying now, Lyra jumped up and fled, her footsteps heavy on the treads. When her door slammed, Dad looked down at his feet, hands on his hips once more. Lori gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and Lisa nudged him with her elbow, which was as intimate as she got in front of other people.

"Your Dad's scary when he's mad," Gwen whispered.

Yeah, he was. Out loud, "Pfft, he's a bitch."

Sighing, Dad looked up, and Lemy was kind of surprised to see tears standing in his eyes. "She's right about one thing," he said, and looked from one daughter to the next, blinking rapidly like he was going to pull a Lupa and break down. "What I've been doing with you, a-a-and what you've been doing with me is not right."

Oh, shit, is he talking about…?

"It stops now. I love you all very much and I have not been completely okay with...with the sex for a while. I'm weak, though, in more ways than one. The more I think about it, the more I hate it, and the more I hate myself for letting it become a thing. I should have done differently. I didn't. That's on me. Not you." He swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry. I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. It won't be easy, but from now on, I want us to be normal father and daughters."

Lemy glanced at Lupa to gauge her reaction to that; she nodded in agreement, her lips pressed tightly together. Hm. Wow, don't you just love it when shit comes together like that?

"That's all I have to say," Dad said, his voice a tired whisper, "you can go."

No one moved for a minute, then, as one, everyone got up and started to filter out of the room. Lemy helped Loan to her feet and frowned when she winced. "God, I think I'm gonna hurl again."

Gwen and Lizy hesitated, but Lemy waved them on. "We'll be up in a minute."

Gwen nodded, then took Lizy's hand and led her up the stairs. Lemy looked around for Lisa, and started when she was right there next to him. She could be as bad as Lucy sometimes. "Hey," he said and looked at Loan, "Loan's…"

"Ill," Lisa said. "Yes, I am aware. In fact, that is one of the reasons this meeting was called."

Only then did Lemy realize none of the adults had left; Dad and Mom stood together, Dad rubbing tears from his eyes and Mom patting his shoulder; Lana and Lola sat on either arm of the chair; Luan, Leni, Lynn, and Lucy sat on the couch in spots recently vacated by their daughters; and Lori appeared next to Lisa, her jaw clenched and her eyes putting Lemy in mind of burning coals for some reason. Their expressions ranged from indifferent (Lucy) to broadly smiling (Mom); Lori fixed him with a withering gaze, and he faltered.

Uh...okay.

"Yeah, it was a great meeting, well done," Loan said, "can I go to bed now?" She ran her fingers through her hair, then tensed when what Lisa said dawned on her. "Wait, I'm not dying, am I?"

"No," Lisa said.

"Good," Loan said, relieved, "then what - ?"

Lisa cut her off.

"You're pregnant."


	17. Prolly The Real Last Chapter, IDK

**This is the final chapter of the reupload. I have no plans to continue this story, though another writer has expressed interest in finishing it. If he will or not, I can't say. I will mark it as complete but don't be shocked if it updates one day...also don't specifically look for it. Reposting this story, I remember what fun I had writing it, and though I've gotten shit from the rigid sticks-up-their ass Nazis in the sin kids fandom and the rigid sticks-up-their-asses sin kids haters, I had a good time and I hope you did too. Thank you for reading and I look forward to seeing you again sometime.**

* * *

**EARLIER THAT DAY**

"She's what?" Lincoln and Lori cried in unison, one in shock and the other in drawing horror.

They were standing in the middle of Lisa's lab, its starile chrome surfaces reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. Lincoln didn't like coming in here because it reminded me of a hospital morgue. Plus her damn parrot always made fun of his cowlick and chipped teeth.

Lisa, clad in a lab coat over her sweater, nodded solemnly, a single paper clutched in one hand. "The blood work clearly shows the presence of hormone human chorionic gonadotropin (street name hCG), which is produced during pregnancy. It is made by cells formed in the placenta, which nourishes the egg after it has been fertilized and becomes attached to the uterine wall. It..." she trailed off when she realized she was going into unnecessary detail. "Anyway, yes, Loan is pregnant."

Lincoln didn't know what to say, what to think; his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and next to him, Lori trembled, her face white and her eyes wide. "H-How?" he asked.

Long ago, Lisa and Lana installed a special filtration system in the water tank that removed impurities and replaced them with a temporary sterilizing agent that acted when ingested internally or applied externally. Drinking water, using water in cooking, and showering in the Loud house all but killed your chances of getting yourself or someone else unintentionally knocked up.

Lisa sighed. "As best I can figure," she said, "Loan did not have enough in her system to effectively guard against fertilization. She only drinks outside beverages and typically only eats outside foods - chips, snack cakes, etc. And she also, as you know, does not bathe regularly."

Lincoln raked his fingers through his hair; his head spun like a tilt-a-whirl and he felt like he was going to throw up. Something occurred to him. "What about Lemy? I don't think he drinks water but he showers every day. How did...how did he do it?"

"I don't know," Lisa sai frankly, "I have not had the time to even process this information myself. It is possible that he and Loan were intimate at the peak of her ovulation cycle and that her body was somehow able to accept his sperm regardless. The agent I used, as you know, does not kill reproductive functions, but instead limits them. That is why it works best when both parties are suppressed."

When Lemy first started seeing Gwen, Lincoln was worried he'd get her pregnant owing to her not being protected. "You said there was a million chance," he said now.

Lisa nodded. "Yes, I did, and this is...this is that chance." Her words faltered. "Really, I...it must have been a perfect confluence of factors. I apologize and I take full responsibility."

Lincoln pinched the bridge of his nose. How should he feel right now? His thirteen-year-old son was going to be a father and Loan…

God, what a mess.

But he smiled anyway and turned to Lori. "Looks like…"

He trailed off when Lori yanked roughly away and spun on Lisa. "I literally can't believe this," she said, her hands going up, "we were not supposed to go to Gen 3."

Lisa nodded. "I -"

Lori's face clenched and her eyes flashed with madness. "WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO GO TO GEN 3!" Her fingers hooked into talons and her eyes grew to twice their normal size; her nostrils flared and her lips peeled back from her teeth in a display of seething irrationality. Lincoln cringed; in his day, the kids would say she's gonna go full autist.

And boy, did she. "GEN 3 IS TOO FAR! WE CAN'T GO TO GEN 3! WE CAN'T! WE CAN'T! WE CAN'T!" She tugged at her hair like she was going insane and punctuated each we can't with a stomp.

"Calm down, Lori," Lincoln said and touched her shoulder, "it's not the end of the world."

He fell back when she turned on him. "YES IT IS!" she hissed. "THAT BABY'S GONNA COME OUT WITH TENTACLES AND THREE HEADS!"

"Actually," Lisa started.

Lori whipped around. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT, BITCH!"

Lisa's face darkened. "In fact I do," she said tightly.

In all hs years of knowing Lori (which were pretty much all of his years), he'd never seen her this upset, not even when that guy with the butt chin (wasn't his name Chester the Child Molester?) tried to lure eight-year-old Loan into his car and she beat him until he cried for his mommy. She sucked great, shoulder shaking gulps of air and shook like a tea kettle at full boil. He reached out, but she shoved his arm away and called him a fag.

Panting and growling, she stalked past him then lashed out, punching the air and kicking the floor; she looked like a petulant and unreasonable child in the throes of an epic temper tantrum. "GEN 3!" she lamented, and turned to him, his hands fisting. Her hair stuck out and her eyes glinted with insanity. "GEN 3!"

He glanced at Lisa, and she rolled her eyes. "Melodrama."

"FUCK YOU!" Lori cried. She panted for air, reminding Lincoln of an animal...then she bent her knees, dropped into a squatting position, and held her hands up on either side like an Indian swami (Ommm, ommm). She threw her head back and let out a sperging autistic screech to end all sperging autistic screeches.

"Lori, will you stop it?" Lisa asked sharply. "The chances of serious physical and or mental deformities are miniscule. You're acting like a monkey in the zoo, flinging its own shit."

Getting to her feet, Lori fisted her hand and shook it. "Loan is not ready for this!" Lincoln rolled his eyes; apparently she was hell-bent on finding excuses for why "Gen 3 is a line that should not be crossed."

"Nonsense," Lisa said dismissively. "Our children are very well-equipped for this type of thing. They have an extensive support network, and as I recall, the garage is filled with enough baby supplies to fill a warehouse. If anybody on the face of the earth is ready, it is Loan."

"You don't understand," Lori said. "Loan has problems. She's not ready to be a mother. S-S-She can barely take care of herself let alone a baby."

"Lori," Lincoln started.

She held up her hand. "Stay out of this, Lincoln."

Hot anger crept across the back of his neck and he opened his mouth to snap, but stopped himself; stay out of this like Loan wasn't his daughter too.

"Lori," Lisa said with strained patience, "I am aware that Loan has anxiety issues. I am also aware that they are nowhere near as debilitating as the both of you make them out to be."

"Excuse me?" Lori asked, her brows shooting up. Lincoln's eyes darted from one to the other and back again like a man watching a heated tennis match...or an eighties kid digging a mean game of Pong.

Glaring, Lisa said, "Loan uses her conditions as an excuse for her innate laziness. You know just as well as I do that she is very bright, yet throughout her entire academic career, she never made more than a C. She is unwilling to apply herself, she is unwilling to become a functioning adult. She is not, however, a cripple."

"I don't treat her like a cripple," Lori said. "I made her get a job. I make her do things for herself, but a baby is a whole different story." She brought her fist down on her palm for emphasis. "She is not ready to be a mother. What will it do to her?"

Lincoln put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips, wanting to jump in but knowing that he if he did and Lori snapped at him, he'd snap back ten times as hard - with the Lyra situation and the realization that he was a terrible fucking father and always had been, the last shit he wanted to deal with was raving hysterics.

"Put her life in perspective, I hope," Lisa said tightly. "She is twenty-one, Lori. A grown woman who has proven that she is able to care for herself and hold down a job. Her becoming pregnant may not be optimal, but it's happened. The Gen 3 you so fear is upon us, and whether or not you like it, you must accept it. Nothing short of an abortion will stop it and I, for one, refuse to carry out such a procedure on a healthy fetus. I do not know whether an embryo is dervering of personhood, but I do know that if left to develop in the natural course of things, it does become a person and I want no part of denying a child life simply because its grandmother -"

"Oh, so now you have ethics," Lori asked, her voice dripping with contempt. "Someone better tell all those freaks you created."

Lisa's eyes narrowed dangerously and Lincoln braced himself. You wouldn't know if from looking at her, or even casually knowing her, but she was capable of scathing tirades laced with the coarsest language imaginable, and anyone who found themselves on the receiving end usually wound up slack-jawed and wide-eyed with shock...and also on the verge of tears because damn, she rolled hard. Instead of unleashing on her eldest sister, however, she took a sharp breath through her nose and let it slowly out. "I understand this is a stressful situation, and I am to blame. I apologize for that. I am prepared to work with Loan extensively to ensure that she is ready for this both mentally and physically. Once the baby is born, it will have a large and loving family to care for it, and Loan, and Lemy as well, will have all the help and support they need."

She seemed to consider continuing, then turned to her lab. "I have a few things that require my immediate attention. When I am done, I can talk to Loan if you'd like, or be there when you do it. Whichever you'd prefer."

Lori's eyes bore into her back, then, before Lincoln's very eyes, the fight ran out of her; she hanged her head and pressed one trembling hand to her temple, her back rising and falling as she drew deep, heavy breaths.

Sighing, Lincoln cupped the back of her neck in his hand. "Lori," he said softly, "everything's going to be fine."

She shook her head slowly as if in denial, her face haggard and wan. She suddenly looked much older than her thirty-eight years. "I just hope she's ready," she said, her voice a low, anxious whisper that scoured Lincoln's heart like broken glass. Two decades ago, he and Lori were in Loan and Lemy's shoes, kids who one day woke up to find themselves parents-in-waiting. She was seventeen and he was eleven - she worked a part time job at Gus's Games and Grub and he...well, he was eleven, so he couldn't work even if he wanted to. Their parents know about their relationship and tolerated it, but neither he nor Lori knew how they would take the news that their daughter was pregnant by their son, and neither knew what the future held. Lori was a sensible girl, but she was still a girl, and the news that she was going to be a mother before she was even out of high school struck her hard. The Loud family 'harem' more or less coalesced during Lori's pregnancy; she and Lincoln needed their sisters, and their sisters were there for them...just as Lori was there for each of them when the time came.

Despite having that support network, as Lisa called it, the enormity of their predicament, and the uncertainty over what they would do once the baby came, weighed heavy upon them, a dark pressure that built over time until it consumed them like cancer.

Then, Loan was born, and as they each took turns holding her in the hospital...it all ceased to matter. They had a precious little girl and all of the worry melted away because they loved their daughter and love, as the saying goes, will find a way.

"We weren't ready," he pointed out, "but we made it."

Lisa sat at her computer, pecking hesitantly at the keyboard and listening...by the nearly imperceptible tilt of her head.

"I know," Lori said, "and I don't want her to feel like I did." She drew a hitching breath. "I was so scared. We were both children ourselves, Lincoln. I-I didnt think we could do it. I didn't think I could do it, and I was sick with worry the whole time. I don't want that for Loan."

Neither did he. "We were also new to...this," he said. "We're not new to it anymore. We've had child after child in this family, and we've always come together to raise them as a village. What is so different about this child?" When Lori didn't answer, he continued. "Nothing. We will raise him or her like we did Liby and Lacy and Leia and all the others. Loan is not alone, and neither is Lemy. They have us and they always will."

"There is a virtual cornucopia of baby-centric items in the garage," Lisa said to the computer screen, "we have, off the top of my head, everything a child could possibly need save for sanitary products and baby food, both of which are easily obtainable. If it is a girl, there are more articles of clothing than a single child can wear. If it is a boy, then we will purchase clothing befitting his gender, which is not a tall order."

Lori sighed. "That's not the point. I -"

"I know," Lincoln said forestallingly. "The fact of the matter is, she's going to be nervous, she's going to be scared, becoming a mother is a huge deal, whether you're ready or not, whether you're fourteen or forty-five. We just need to be there for her the way we've always been there for each other. That is all we can do right now...it's the best thing we can do. She needs to know that her mother is going to love her and support her. That will go a long way in allaying her fears. Being mad, being upset, pointing fingers and grousing is only going to stress her out even more."

He brushed his fingertips lovingly across the nape of Lori's neck. She sucked her lips into her mouth as she reflected on his words, then she sighed. "You're right." She looked up at him, and the ghost of a smile played at the corners of her lips. "And...being a grandmother sounds...fun."

Lincoln touched her face, leaned in, and placed a celibate kiss on her lips. "Yes it does." Though he shared just a smidgen of Lori's concern, he was proud of Loan and Lemy. He wouldn't have thought so two days ago, but he really liked the idea of seeing his children being fruitful and multiplying, having kids of their own and experiencing the eye-welling joys of parenthood.

And hopefully, they wouldn't make the same mistakes he and their mothers had.

The warm, happy feeling in his chest fled. "I'm calling a family meeting," he said and turned to Lisa. "I'm...I'm stopping what I do with the girls." He winced at the sound of those words. He rarely spoke...what they did...out loud, and when he did, he felt dirty.

Humming, Lisa said, "That's probably for the best. I know I was instrumental in championing the idea, but after careful observations, I've concluded that we were wrong. I was wrong. I apologize for that, as well."

Lincoln's brow knitted. "Observations? Observations of what?"

"Lupa and Lyra, mainly," Lisa said. "I've come to believe that Lyra's recent religious conversion is in some way her attempting to deal with repressed guilt and shame over what the two of you have been doing. On a conscious level, she accepted it and rationalized it, but subconsciously, she realized how inherently abnormal it was and has been bottling up negative emotions perhaps for years."

A pang of horror rippled through Lincoln's stomach. "D-Do you think so?" he asked.

"Yes," Lisa said.

Lincoln sighed. He felt like shit before, but in that moment he felt worse than shit...lower and more disgusting. After his argument with Lyra, he knew, vaguely, that his actions had affected his daughters, but not that deeply. I was a child, she said, you could have turned me away.

He walked away after that...he told himself that while there was truth to that statement, she wanted it at the time. But now, in a flash, it was clear to him that he was making excuses for himself.

Something occurred to him and his heart skipped. "What about Lupa? W-What's wrong with her?"

Lori, sensing his growing panic, took his hand and held it.

"Depression," Lisa said, "very evident depression."

He remembered the conversation they had after they were last together. It's not normal, you aren't normal, and I'm not normal. The only normal thing in my life has been my relationship with Lemy. There's a part of me that wants him physically, to kiss him and fuck him and all that...but when I think about it, it's like...like I'm perverting something innocent and pure, and it makes me feel like shit.

The only normal thing in my life…

That's what she said, and she wasn't wrong. Staring down at his shoes, he processed everything she said to him, every facial tick, every expression, searching for what he didn't know...something to exonerate himself of his own guilt, perhaps. She told him that she liked Lemy but didn't want to pervert something she saw as innocent and pure...because it was the only pure and innocent thing she had.

A lump of emotion welled in his throat and hot tears filled his eyes. He hurt his daughters, his little girls, more than he ever could have imagined, more than could probably ever be fixed...and he had the audacity to think of himself as a good father. He wasn't a good father, he was a piece of fucking shit.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Lincoln," Lisa said. She was facing him now, leaning forward with her hands in her lap and a beseeching expression on her face. "Every parents makes mistakes. Recognizing these mistakes, and rectifying them, is not always easy, but it can be done."

Could it, though? For years, he and his daughters had sex. For years he perverted the sacred bond a father shares with his child. Familial love and romantic love are two very distinct things. The former is stronger than the latter, and the latter is messier than the former. They are like a red wire and a blue wire...wires that should never be crossed but were...crossed and then fused together. Where did his romantic relationship with Lyra and the others end and his familial relationship begin? The moment he engaged in his first sex act with them, he ceased being just their father and became something more...something that no parent was ever meant to be to their child. The character of his relationship with them changed and took on strange and distorted dimensions; the purity and innocence that constitutes a father's love was soiled and shattered. He took something wholesome and made it perverted.

All of these thoughts and more battered him as he went through the rest of the afternoon, and by the time he called everyone into the living room, he hated himself...literally and thoroughly hated himself.

**RIGHT NOW.**

"I'm what?" Loan asked, the color draining from her face. Her grasp on Lemy's hand tightened, and through the dust cloud of his shock, he was semi-conscious of pain streaking up his arm. He didn't doubt what he heard (I got a lotta flaws, bro, but deafness isn't one of them), but...he still couldn't believe it.

Dumbfounded. That was the word. Flabbergasted too.

LIsa nodded slowly. "Yes. You are pregnant." She turned to Lemy, and his heart twinged inexplicably. "And before you ask or wonder, I ran a genetic test, and you are indeed the father."

In his thirteen years of life, Lemy had never taken a blast of buckshot to the chest and stomach, but if he had to compare hearing those words to anything, it would be that. F-F-Father? Like...I know what she just said and I-I-I understand, I just...father?

Next to him, Loan trembled in holy terror. Her mother came over and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder; Lori's face was a shade of tender Lemy had never seen from her, and that more than anything else drove the point home. He got Loan pregnant and now they were going to have a baby.

His knees went weak and he would have fallen if it weren't for his sister's steely death grip. Someone touched his back, and he jumped. "Congrats, dude," Mom said and patted the spot between his shoulder blades like he just hit a homer in a baseball game or won a spelling bee. "I was starting' to think you'd never give me grandkids."

I gotta...I gotta sit down.

Luckily, Loan did too: They both collapsed to the couch at the same time, their faces matching, drawn, pale, and slack. A thousand thoughts raced through Lemy's head and as many emotions roiled in his chest. Fear. Denial. Horror. Perverse joy. Pride. Disbelief. More fear. He reached out and tried to capture one, but it took his whole fucking hand like a buzz saw, and blood spurted from the ragged stump.

Looking down at them, her lips pursed in either annoyance or sympathy, Lisa spoke. "I understand this is overwhelming, but rest assured that everyone here is ready to support you in anyway you need it."

"Yep," Luan said airily, "we'll help you come to terms with it."

Lana nodded eagerly. "Yep, we're here for you guys."

Everyone else voiced their agreement, but Lemy was too caught up in his own thoughts to hear; the initial shock was beginning to wear off, and it was sinking in that he was going to be a father. I should have anticipated this - I never pull out - but I just, I mean, I didn't expect anything to actually happen, you know? I-It's like when you're young and you think you're bulletproof. You take risks and go without health insurance because eh, I'm twenty-five, nothing's gonna happen to me. That's pretty fucking stupid, right? Lol, I guess my headband was on too tight. I just...wow, me a father.

I'm not ready for that.

A-A-And it's not the...the superficial things like being tied down or changing diapers at 3am. It's...I just...I'm stammering here, I'm sorry. I just found out that I'm going to have a child and I don't think I'm father material. Look at me! I'm a fucking kid! A fucked up one at that! A baby is such a big thing...you are responsible for another human life, and…

I-I-I can't do an epic monologue right now. Sorry, guys, my mind just isn't there right now.

Beside him, Loan pressed her fingers to her temple and took a deep breath. "I-I can't have a baby," she said, her voice uneven. "I-I-I don't...are you sure?"

Lisa nodded. "Yes, I'm sure."

Loan took a deep breath and let it out in a ragged puff. Lori perched on the arm of the couch and rubbed her daughter's back. "I don't know jackshit about kids," Loan said more to herself than to anyone else. "I can't have one."

"The fact of the matter is you're going to," Lisa said. "Luckily for you, you have an entire family here who is more than willing and capable of helping you. Myself, for one. I wish to speak with both of you at some point in the future, but right now, I suggest you both take time to process all of this."

Lemy jerked a sidelong glance at Loan; she stared off into space, a dazed look in her eyes. If you looked up the word "SHAKEN" in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of her face as it was right now. Wow, that's...that's the mother of my child. Kind of heady when you think about it. We created a life together. She looked really taken aback by this, and he knew innately that it fell to him to be strong. He got to his feet and looked down at her. She turned her head, and in her eyes he saw fear.

She was afraid.

"Let's go upstairs," he said.

* * *

Lyra Loud sat with her back against the headboard of her bed and her legs folded under her. An open Bible sat unread in her lap, as it had for the past twenty minutes. She tried to pray, but the words came hard, and the feeling of blissful rapture that she felt that first time came not at all. She stared blankly at the page, the words of Christ red like His cleansing blood.

There is no hell and there is no God, her father said.

And despite it all...Lyra thought maybe he was right. Last night, after trying and failing to fall asleep, she sat down with this very book and resolved to read it all the way through, from cover to cover. She started at the beginning...and the contradictions started there too:

Genesis chapter 1 says that Adam and Eve were made at the same time.. after the animals. But Genesis chapter 2 says Adam came first...then all then animals...then, finally, Eve. Genesis chapter 1 says there were six days of creation, but chapter 2 refers to the "day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens." Genesis 1:2-3 claims that God created light and divided it from darkness on the first day; but Genesis 1:14-19 says the sun, moon, and stars weren't made until the fourth day.

According to Genesis 6:19-22, God ordered Noah to bring "of every living thing of all flesh, two of every sort . . . into the ark." Nevertheless, Genesis 7:2-3 relates that the Lord ordered Noah to take into the ark the clean beasts and the birds by sevens, and only the unclean beasts by twos.

If you don't know Christianity very well, you might not see the big deal. Well...maybe Lyra wasn't a biblical scholar herself, but when Mrs. Applewhite gave her the Bible, she explicitly told her This is the word of God, dear. It is infallible. What does "infallible" mean?

Incapable of making mistakes or being wrong.

That might not be the dictionary definition exactly, but Lyra knew damn well that's what it meant - she didn't just go to concerts and screw men, she read too. Not often, but enough. The Bible, therefore, could not be infallible because when there are two conflicting statements that purport to be right, one is wrong. That means that the Bible is full of wrong...almost as though it were written not by God, but by men.

And then there's how cruel God can be: There are dozens of stories where he directy orders the deaths of people, including children. He sends plagues, floods, fire and brimstone. What loving deity does that?

She called up an image of Christ on the cross, his face battered and bloody, his head lolling to one side and pain contorting his features. Mrs. Applewhite said that he sacrificed himself because he loves us and wants us to have eternal life. That was comforting and even beautiful. It made her want to believe. It made her want to ignore everything else, but while she might be a slut, she wasn't stupid, and she couldn't be so wllfully ignorant as to accept a flawed doctrine based on hope alone. Hope - for a better life - had lead men to do awful things, and to embrace awful ideas. The average citizen of Nazi Germany may have been racist, but she didn't think they were all mini-Hitlers, they put their stock in him because he promised them a good life. Same with all the communist dictators. The people who marched along behind them had to notice all the gulags, dead bodies, and government repression, but they held onto their hope even as they themselves were lead into oblivion.

Sighing, she closed the Bible and set it aside just as a knock came at the door. It was probably her father, and for some reason, shame washed through her like bitter wine. "Yeah?"

The knob turned, and to her surprise, Lisa came in, closing the door behind her and crossing her arms sternly over her chest. Lyra hanged her head to hide her face, like Cain cowering from God. She was not in the mood to be yelled at.

"I'd like to talk to you," Lisa said, her voice low and lacking the edge Lyra imagined. "About your...beliefs."

Lyra didn't say anything. She knew what was coming, and on some level, she wanted to hear it...on another, she did not.

Coming forward, Lisa sat stiffly on the edge of the bed and twisted around to face her. "I want you to understand something up front. I do not wish to insult you, I only want to tell you the truth."

"Go on," Lyra muttered.

Taking a deep breath, Lisa said, "There is no God, and if there is, he certainly is not that God of the Bible...or of the Koran or of anything else. I say this based on my observations of the world and from my own religious studies."

Lyra looked up, her brows furrowing. She didn't know Lisa studied religion, though she guessed it made sense. Her aunt did have an insatiable thirst for knowledge, why would that not extend to religion?

"The Bible is allegedly the word of God and is claimed to be without fault and above reproach. It is not. In fact, it is riddled with scientific and historical inaccuracies from page one. It is clearly the work of ancient men who did not have a full understanding of the world around them. They were not imbued with divine knowledge...they were just ordinary men." She paused and seemed to consider her words very carefully before continuing. "Make of that what you will. If you are determined to believe, I respect that. I don't respect your approach, but I do your base philosophy. I just want to talk about it. Namely...why? Your conversation happened so quickly it seemed to come in a matter of hours."

Silence hung heavy between them as Lyra collected her thoughts. "Lynn and Luan called me a slut, and...I realized that I was." She spoke haltingly.

Lisa blinked. "They called you a slut?"

"Yeah, and -"

"That's bullshit."

Lyra had heard her aunt curse before, but it happened rarely enough that she looked up at her in surprise.

"I find it highly hypocritical of them to mock your sexual proclivities when both of them have engaged in full-blown penetrative sex with their thirteen-year-old nephew. They both have also allowed their own daughters to engage in full-blown penetrative sex with their father. In fact, I know it to be true that Lynn once joined Lincoln and Lacy in a threesome, while Luan performed oral sex on Liby twice...to my knowledge."

Okay, that gave Lyra pause: She had no idea Lacy and Liby did...that...with their mothers. She herself had never done anything with her own mother. She had never done anything with a woman, for that matter.

But she did do it with men. Lots of them. "I've been with thirty-four men," she said, and darted her eyes ashamedly away from Lisa. "I counted. I probably missed some. That makes me a slut."

"No it doesn't," Lisa stated.

Lyra opened her mouth to argue, but Lisa cut her off. "There exists, even to this day, a sexist double standard in our society. Many men believe that it is perfectly fine, indeed even desirable, for them to put their dick in as many women as they can. At the same time, they believe that a woman who has a similar amount of sex is a slut. We all like sex in this family, Lyra. You do, I do, your mother does, your father does. If I was not attached to your father, I would have sex with multiple partners. If your father was not attached to us, he would as well. Every woman in this town would have a child by him. Every woman who so much showed her face in the same screen with him would. The difference is we made a commitment to him and he to us because...we love each other. I am madly in love with your father, as are my sisters. You do not have such a commitment. You are single. Therefore, you are free to fuck whoever you please...just as Lynn and Luan would if they were single."

Lyra considered that a moment. "But...Liena and Loan are single too and…I mean Loan used to be single -"

"Liena has engaged in sexual activities with men who are not Lincoln or Lemy," Lisa said pointedly. "She has an online dating profile and has expressed an interest in meeting a man to settle down with. I can't tell you how many men she's been with, but she could. As for Loan...you know full well that she rarely left the house growing up. She had no access to other men. You are not a slut and anyone who says you are is either an asshole, stupid, or jealous that you enjoy an active sex life while they're condemened to lonely mastrubatroy sessions whilst staring at cartoon porn images."

That made Lyra snicker.

Lisa flashed a wan smile.

When you put it like that...maybe she wasn't a slut.

But she still felt...dirty.

Lisa continued. "Tell me how you came into contact with this church," she said. "What lead up to it, etc. Just so I have a better understanding of it."

Taking a deep breath, Lyra started with the revelation that she was a slut, sitting on the steps, talking to Mrs. Applewhite, going inside, and…

She faltered and Lisa laid a hand on her knee. "What?" she pressed.

"I told about what I do with Dad," Lyra said. "And…" a lump welled in her throat and inexplicable tears sprang to her eyes. "And they looked at me like I was a monster...like I was the most repulsive thing ever." She recalled their faces, twisted in shock, horror, and revulsion. My god, child, that's disgusting! Deacon Koresh cried. Mrs. Applewhite just stared at her, jaw slack. "They told me we were going to go to hell, then they told me what hell was like." Lyra suddenly felt very cold; she hugged herself for warmth, but it did not come - the chill was internal, emanating from her bones.

Lisa nodded understandingly. "And you wanted to save yourself from that. And us as well."

"Yes," Lyra nodded.

"You latched onto the concept of salvation because deep down, you feel guilt and shame over what you do with your father. Correct?"

Lyra started to say no, I enjoy sex with Dad, but stopped. In a way she did like it, but sometimes she did find herself wishing things were normal between her and him. She couldn't say she was overly ashamed, but her relationship with her father was a lot more complicated than her relationship with anyone else. It's not supposed to be like that, or at least that's what she'd gathered from books, TV, and movies. Your dad is your dad, and that's it. Simple. Her father was her father, but he was also a lover. She was not in love with him per se, but her feelings for him were complex in a way that her feelings for her mother were not. She loved him and she wanted to please him, and sometimes she got really jealous when he was with Lupa.

On the flip side, it was kind of hard for her to take him seriously as a parent when he laid down the law. It felt...wrong...not like he was her father at all but just...another guy.

In a nutshell, yes, she sort of wanted a more normal relationship with him.

Then again, as she sat on that pew surrounded by Mrs. Applewhite and the others, she did feel shame - the greatest shame she had ever known or ever hoped to know.

"I guess," she allowed.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Lisa said. "I find the idea of Christ the savior comforting myself and, at times, I wish it were true. It's not, though."

Lyra didn't speak for a long time. When she finally did, it was to say, "I know." Looking away from Lisa, she pulled the cross over her neck and flung it away like the thirty pieces of silver it was. "I feel like such an idiot," she said. She recalled walking through the house like she had a stick up her butt and shoving her book-of-lies into everyone's face. How dumb did she look?

Probably like a joke that started to take itself seriously.

"I take it that means Christian Lyra is no more?" Lisa asked.

Lyra nodded. "Yep. The real Lyra's back now."

"Good," Lisa said and patted Lyra's knee. "We missed you."

* * *

Soft purple twilight seeped into the room and pooled like rising black water, the headlights of cars passing in the street darting across the wall like flickering phantoms. Lemy lay on his side, his forehead pressed to Loan's shoulder and his hand resting over her left breast. She stared up at the ceiling with wide, unblinking eyes, her legs spread in a V and her hands twisting on her stomach like two nervous snakes. Neither had moved or spoken in nearly an hour; Lemy came close several times, but scooted closer and held her instead. Her heart palpitated steadily against her palm, fast and knocking at first, then gradually calming until it was an even though elevated buh-beat, buh-beat, buh-beat. Her breathing was ragged and panting when they laid down, but it, too, slowed; now it was deep and regular, and he was beginning to think she'd fallen asleep.

Then she spoke, rousing him from his thoughts. "I'm scared shitless," she said, voice flat. She shifted a little and swallowed with an audible click.

So am I, he thought but did not say. I'm scared I'm gonna botch this. I'm scared I'm gonna be a shit father, I'm scared because it's such an enormous responsibility, scared because what the fuck are we gonna do? I'm a kid. I'm legally not allowed to work; I'm years from finishing high school...and-and-and that's the most basic level of education you can get, with that your job options are severely limited and therefore the money you make is limited. I can't support a family on minimum wage. And then there's the fact that…

I just feel lost, okay? I guess that's a given since this is new territory for me - it's normal to feel that way, right? Like you're in over your head and out of your element? A baby's a life-changing thing. In nine short months, our everything is going to be different. You don't bring a baby into your life and expect it to be just fit, you have to make adjustments and alterations. You have to build around it, not ask it to build itself around you.

Right now, I don't have the luxury of feeling lost. Loan needs me to be strong. You know she has a lot of issues, so this has to be extra hard on her. I have to worry about her in addition to everything else. She can't know I feel lost.

"You shouldn't be," he said. "You're gonna be a great mom."

She sighed and turned her head to face him, her pallid features stark and white against the darkness. "No, I won't. I can't even take care of myself. How am I gonna take care of a baby?"

Lemy thought for a moment, then, meeting her gaze, he brushed his hand down her chest, pushed her hands away, and splayed his fingers on her stomach, where a new life, one formed of their love, was even now beginning to take shape. "You're gonna have me," he vowed, "every step of the way. That's how."

She searched his eyes as if for traces of deceit, but found none. She drew a deep, shivery breath and looked away. "I'm afraid I'm gonna fuck it up."

"You won't. You heard everyone, we'll have them to help us."

For a long time, she didn't speak, then she looked at him again. "I do kind of like...you know...the idea of having your baby." She smiled weakly and touched the side of his face with trembling fingers. "You're really awesome."

Lemy snickered. He didn't think so, but you know what? He was committed to being as awesome as he could be from now on...for Loan and their baby. "I do too," he said and softly stroked her stomach.

"I love you," she said earnestly, her face drawing to his.

"I love you too," he replied and met her lips halfway. They gazed into each other's eyes as though binding themselves inextricably and forever to the other, then they kissed, their tongues dancing together in holy union.

On the other side of the door, Leia listened, her ear cupped to the wood. Her eyes widened and her heart sank into her stomach.

Loan was pregnant?

With Lemy's baby?

That revelation tore through her like a revving chainsaw, and hot tears filled her eyes.

Stepping from the door, her heart aching like an infected tooth, she went back to her room on leaden feet, flopped face first onto her bed, and struggled not to cry.

But lost.


	18. Until

**No more false starts, the BS saga is finally done. I have four or five chapters after this written and will post them one at a time. Hopefully close together, but I'm usually buried in commissions, so no promises. Like I said, though, there **_**is **_**finally an actual ending.**

* * *

**Lyrics to **_**Noise Level Critical **_**by Tigertailz (1990)**

Like the cat from that pants shittingly terrifying Stephen King movie, Lemy Loud was back from the dead.

I'm like genital warts, you just can't get rid of me. I go into remission, and just when you think you're in the clear, boom, I'm baaaaaack.

In this case "dead" meant "a dead ass sleep." Now, not many people knew this, but underneath the headband, fingerless gloves, and placid expression (_I think I just sharted, I better not move_), Lemy was a normal kid. Sure, he had his...ahem...quirks (like the sister fucking thing) but other than that, he was your average American preteen, and as such, he had been raised on a 6 to 11 schedule. 6am, get up and ready for school, 11pm get in bed, lie awake with your regrets for an hour, then go to sleep. Lately, though, thanks to spring break, he was all assbackwards and wound up sleeping from noon to seven.

Why the sudden change, you may ask (other than spring break?).

Well, I'mma tell you.

Last week, it hit Lemy full force that in a few short months, he was going to be a father. His and Loan's baby would be born and he would be 100 percent responsible for providing for it. Not that Loan couldn't or wouldn't, but, c'mon, he was the guy here, and no matter what kind of stupid gas the feminists put out, the man is the provider. That's how we evolved. Why do you think men are faster and stronger? Why do you think that once they let trannies into girls sports, they fucking dominated? Men _had _to be faster and stronger because _someone _had to go hunt wooly mammoths and build shit, and for what ever fucked up reason (thanks a lot, bro) nature chose the penis-haverers to be the hunter-builders. Maybe my views are a little old school (funny, considering I am in absolutely no way old school about anything else), but I couldn't live with myself as a man if I couldn't take care of my kid. I'd feel like everyone was always looking at me from their corner of their eye and silently judging me for being a piece of shit. _He can make kids but he can't take care of them, humph_.

Not gonna lie, that'd make me feel like less of a man, and I don't wanna feel like less of a man.

Again.

All those mopey months he spent crying down the front of his shirt like a wojak meme with eighties hair flooded over him, and a shiver went down his spine. I've changed a lot in the last couple months, huh? Remember when I used to be a total cuck? LOL, but really, that shit wasn't fun. Maybe some invisible audience of sadists got off to it (_bro, my life is the most popular TV show in hell after Hitler: The Final Solution_), but just thinking about it gives me the heebie jeebies. I've grown and changed since then. I've…

Well...I've had sex. And I've, uh, kind of patched things up with my Dad. I have a girlfriend. Several, in fact. I also have a newfound swagger that Aunt Lynn says makes me look like a faggot. And…

_Had _he changed? Like, fundamentally?

That question, always at the back of his mind, governed his every thought and action. The recollection of what he once was stood always behind him like a slave driver, cracking a whip on his back and pushing him to be the complete opposite. Back then, he wasn't a man. Frankly, he was a bitch. A joke. A 1D cardboard cut out that everyone in his family laughed at and memed on. It wasn't like he was horribly abused or anything, but if he was honest, going back to that period was hard.

Jokes and memes aside, he was sad and alone.

Call me a bitch for that, idc, but I was. I felt like no one cared about me. Like I wasn't even a part of my own family. Whatever it takes to get as far the fuck away from that as I can, I'mma do.

And that meant manning up and taking care of his child anyway possible. Guys like the Old Lemy wouldn't because they are inherently selfish. Yeah, they have reasons, but they only care about themselves, for right or wrong, and self-centered people _kind of _make shitty parents. I, therefore, will be as unlike that as I can. Hey, Ted, you're looking sweaty, wipe off with my headband; Chad, need a dollar? Here, take fifty.

Okay, nah, I won't be like _that_, but you know what I mean.

Or maybe you don't. Don't worry, though, not many people do. I'm not complaining or moaning about that, I'm really not, but I'm me, you know? And there's only one me in existence. Thank God, the world couldn't handle this much sexy. *Rubs nipple*

Having a harem of girls who love you is great, but as well as Lizy, Gwen, and Loan understood him, they didn't quite get the whole picture. It's like...okay, say you learned to speak a language. Great. You know all the words, but you don't really comprehend all the eccentricities of it. You can't tell when someone's being literal or sarcastic, you can't fully register their idioms. His girls could speak the language but they merely adopted it, he was born into it, molded by it -

See! There I go with the old movie references again. That's exactly the type of thing Gwen, Loan, and Lizy would miss. They'd think those words were coming from me and not some long dead Hollywood script writer. They got what he was saying, but not the meaning.

Damn, that's a good analogy. Remind me to pat myself on the back sometime.

Anyway, off track. Sorry. Don't mean to pad. Oh, wait, yes I do, cuz I got shit on my mind and I like to beat around the bush like my name's Bon Scott. Last week, Lemy realized he had a little one on the way and resolved to start making some money for it. Diapers and shit aren't free, bro. He put out an ad online for LEMY'S RADIO AND TV SHOP. Sounds retro, huh? Anyway, the idea was, he'd fix people's mechanical shit for money. A service for a good. He wasn't expecting any bites, but surprisingly, he got _dozens._ Because night was the only time he had to himself, he stayed up and worked on radios, televisions, lawn mowers, and, once, a vibrator while everyone else slept.

Yes, a vibrator. It belonged to a little old woman who was convinced that it was some kind massage wand. Lemy didn't have the heart to tell her what it really was and hoped to God she didn't know and hadn't, uh, made use of it before.

Presently, he was sitting at his desk by soft lamplight and gazing deeply into the guts of an XBox 12. Every so often, he glanced over at the bed, where Gwen and Lizy clung to each other in their sleep, Gwen's bare leg hooked possessively over Lizy's hip and Lizy snuggled to Gwen's breasts. The hem of Gwen's oversized T-shirt (one of the ones she took from him, fucking Bogart) rode up her side and he could just make out the faint curve of one naked butt-cheek. Loan was in her room down the hall. She was too good to sleep with the rest of the homegirls.

Not really. One, there was no room for her, and two, she liked to sleep alone. Most nights. Some nights she wanted to be cuddled and be held, but for the most part, she liked having her bedspace.

It was currently 4am by the clock on the nightstand and Lemy had been up tinkering with this fucking Fagbox since 1. There was something wrong with the left ventrical electrode and no matter how fucking hard he tried, he couldn't find it; every time he plugged it into the motherframe, it shocked the fuck out of him. Ow! My fingertips! If this kept on, he'd wind up like Tony Iommi.

He took a swig from a can of piss warm Monster and slipped a pair of earbuds from the top drawer; the silence was starting to get to him, and if he didn't get 10 CCs of rock and (or) roll into his system stat, he was going to scream.

Opening YouTube, he went to his playlist and hit PLAY ALL. Loud, crunchy guitar filled his head and he let out a contented sigh. Ahhh, nothing like hair metal to get you in the mood for losing a finger. At least he'd have something to bang his head to while Mom and Dad rushed him to the emergency room.

_Do you ever get a night when_

_You feel alright but your_

_Folks been drivin' you mad_

_Got a needle in the groove_

_And you're ready to move_

_You hit the power and you're_

_Feelin' bad,_

Lemy had nights like that all the time. Tbh, most nights drove him mad because no matter how deeply he lost himself in the innards of a stereo or blender, he could never escape reality, you know?

But, Lemy, he could hear that audience in hell he mentioned earlier saying, what do you have to escape from? You have girls, a nice house, and your balls aren't on fire 24/7.

_If you wanna unwind, get outta your mind_

_Get hip to the crazy sound_

_When that music comes through_

_There's nothin' you can do_

'_Cause you're never gonna_

_Turn it down, tell me now!_

Okay, well, for one, I'm a thirteen year old kid and I'm going to have a baby. I can't get a regular fucking job. I can't even drop out of school _to _get a job. For two, Leia's royally pissed at me and she's been a huge bitch lately. I can stand that for myself, but she'd been going hard on Gwen and Gwen is...you know...kind of frail. Emotionally. And this thing with Leia has her skittish. I dunno, it bothers her and every time Leia makes a snide, dumbass remark, you can see a shadow of pain flicker through Gwen's eyes. Dude, call me what you will, but I love that girl and when she hurts, _I _hurt, so if she's on edge, I've already fallen over and broken every bone on the way down.

Then there was Aunt Lori. She was still all worked up about Loan being pregnant. She kept giving him dirty looks and whenever she spoke to him, it was in the clipped, strained tone of a woman forcing herself to acknowledge someone she hated.

I don't have the host of problems I did a year ago, but I have enough to drive me a little bonkers.

_The noise level's critical_

_Turn It down_

_Turn It down, down_

_The noise level's critical_

_Turn It down_

_Turn It down, down_

Lemy unconsciously nodded his head back and forth like a madman in the corner of a padded cell. The Leia thing really got to him. He hated what it did to Gwen, and he hated Leia being mad at him. He wanted things to be okay between them but...whatever.

_When the going gets though,_

_I turn to that stuff, know_

_It's gonna get me through,_

_If you can't stand the pace_

_Get outta my face! 'coz I'm_

_Doin' what I wanna do!_

So, like the little bitch he claimed he no longer was, he thought about everything under the sun _except _what was really the matter. He realized he was nodding his head and remembered something the late, great Jim Cornette said about the Armstrong Family. Jim Cornette, in case you didn't know, was an old school wrestling promoter. In the early nineties, he had a promotion called Smokey Mountain Wrestling that ran shows in Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky, and idk, some other hillbilly states. He was giving an interview about The Armstrong Family (Lemy had no fucking idea who they were, but he assumed they were muscular...get it?). Cornette was shitting all over them, calling them drunks and saying they beat their wives, then he's like _I hear there's a lot of intermarying in that family, which is why some of them are occasionally..._then he twitched his head to the side like he was retarded. Next to him, the interviewer almost loses it, LOL.

_Forget about the crowd an'_

_Turn It up loud, It doesn't_

_Matter what the people say_

_If you can't stand the heat_

_Find another beat, 'coz the_

_Music's gonna play an' play_

As an inbred himself, Lemy was deeply offended...after he got done laughing. Jeez, Corny couldn't do that shit today or they'd put him _under _the jail.

That was wrestling pre Roman Reigns for you. Remember that time Jerry Lawler called Jimmy Valient a faggot on Memphis TV? Of course, you don't, but I do, lol. Oh, and the best botch of all, Booker T getting so into this scathing promo on Hulk Hogan that he straight said _Hulk Hogan, we comin' for you, nigga. _Apparently back then a black man calling someone a nigga on a major wrestling company's flagship pay-per-view was just as scandalous as a white man doing it today. Lemy didn't know why, but the 90s didn't make a whole lot of sense.

_When the going gets though,_

_I turn to that stuff, know_

_It's gonna get me through,_

_If you can't stand the pace_

_Get outta my face! 'coz I'm_

_Doin' what I wanna do, aw!_

Of course, none of the decades made sense. Take the seventies, for instance. They threw every instrument you could think of into rock songs, even the gay ones...especially the gay ones. AC/DC was using bagpipes, dude in BOC was banging on a cowbell, and John Black was shredding his accordion. LMAO, there's a super obscure one for you. Guy literally did a song that was him (metaphorically) riding his accordion's dick for three minutes while his back up gang chanted A-C-C-O-R-D-I-O-N like a low rent Bay City Rollers.

Lemy sighed. What was he going to do? How was he going to provide for his little boy or girl? Fix radios until he graduated high school? Make ten and twenty bucks here and there, then pull his pockets out to Dad and plead poverty when it was all gone. _Please, Daddy, I'm not man enough to buy my son formula, do it for me. _

_The noise level's critical_

_Turn It down_

_Turn It down down_

_The noise level's critical_

_Turn It down_

_Turn It down down_

Man, fuck that. Lemy Loud (no, my middle name is not fucking Limpbiscuit, fuck whoever started that rumor) had screwed up a lot of shit in his life, but he wasn't going to screw this up. You know how they say last time pays for all? Well, this was that last time. No matter where or how you fail, it doesn't mean shit if you're a good, loving parent. And if you fail at _that, _you're trash and you might as well just top yourself.

A hand fell on his shoulder and he jumped. He ripped the earbuds out and twisted around just as Loan bent over, cheek-to-cheek. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," Lemy said and relaxed. "What's up?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "Eh, baby's hungry. I wanted to see if you wanted something to eat."

Lemy glanced at Gwen and Lizy as if for permission, then at Loan. She offered a wan smile that was beautiful despite its feebleness, or perhaps because of it. She had a terminal condition called Resting Bitch Face that made her look like a grumpy asshole, but when she smiled, her features lit up.

And she only smiled for him.

"Sure," he said, "I could eat."

He got up, left his phone, and followed Loan out into the darkened hall and down the stairs. In the kitchen, she snapped the light on and went to the fridge. Lemy leaned against the counter and examined his fingertips for signs of nerve damage.

None.

Suh-weet.

Loan took a loaf of bread from the breadbox, untwisted it, and tossed the tie carelessly over her shoulder. "I probably shouldn't have done that," she said, "oops."

"Just tuck it in," Lemy said.

"Like Buffalo Bob?"

That made Lemy laugh. "Actually, it's Buffalo Bill."

"You would know," Loan said. "Fag."

"Says the girl who practically jilled off to Angelina Jolie in _Tomb Raider_."

Loan opened her mouth for a retort, then stopped. "Okay, yeah, I kind of did. You gotta admit, though, she was hot before the fifty face-lifts."

"She was alright," Lemy allowed.

Loan made them each a sandwich loaded with cheese and lunch meat, and they sat across from each other at the kitchen table. "How are you feeling?" Lemy asked.

"Hungry," she said and took a bite.

"No shit," Lemy said, "I mean otherwise."

She chewed her answer over for a second. "Fine. I had some heartburn earlier."

At least once a day, Loan suffered heartburn so bad it made her slap her grandmother (lol people used to say that). Mom said that meant the baby was going to be born with hair. Aunt Lisa said it meant nothing of the sort. Who was right? Tune in next time, kids, because I sure as fuck don't know.

"You should suffer a little," Loan said around her food. "I get leaks, bloating, heartburn, and mood swings, and you get nothing."

Oh, but I am suffering, my little sourpuss, I totally am.

"I'll let you flatten my dick," he offered.

Loan swallowed. "But I like your dick."

"You can squeeze my nuts."

She took another bite. "I dunno, maybe. I don't wanna pop 'em though. Maybe I'll enjoy motherhood and want more kids."

Lemy wolfed down his sandwich and chased it with a gulp of Coke. Loan left their plates in the sink and the bread out; she was working on not being such a slob, but, like they say, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither was Akron, Ohio, for that matter. At the threshold to the living room, she turned and laid her hand on the frame. She didn't meet his eyes as she spoke. "Do you wanna...cuddle?"

Remember how I said Loan likes to cuddle? She does, a lot, but she never asks for it. She always asks if _I _want to. Idk why, a pride thing? Or am I projecting? Cuz that's how I am. I don't like asking for things like that.

"Yeah, I could cuddle," Lemy said.

She smiled faintly.

In her room, Lemy popped out of his shirt and stretched out on the bed next to Loan. She snuggled up to him, her butt nestling in the hollow of his crotch, and he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers laced over her stomach. "Your demon seed's in there," she said.

"It's half yours," he said.

"Yeah, the good half."

"The gay half."

She giggled and kicked him in the shin with her heel. "Fuck you."

They lapsed into silence, and despite being wide away less than an hour before, Lemy fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He'd worry about money and manhood tomorrow.

For now, he had all he could ever want.

And more.

* * *

Gwen came slowly and languidly awake in a warm pool of spring sunshine, her mind emerging from the mist by degrees until it was entirely clear. She smacked her lips triedly together and stirred, her forehead crinkling in confusion. Someone was cuddling her, and even in her current state, she knew it couldn't be Lemy. She peeled one gummy eyelid open.

Lizy.

The little blonde, clad in a pinkish night dress that was no doubt handed down by Leia, was cradled in Gwen's arms. One of Gwen's legs was thrown over her hips and her bare center pressed lightly against Lizy's bare leg. Gwen moved and her sensitive lower lips brushed Lizy's warm flesh, sending tingles into the pit of her stomach. Lemy joked that she was a loli loving lesbian. She didn't think of herself that way, though. She was just...curious. And in love. With Lizy. Not like she was with Lemy, but after being around the little girl so much, she'd really taken to her. Lizy was cute, lively, and fun, and if she ever had a daughter of her own, she'd want her to be just like Lemy's second littlest sister.

She trailed her fingertips over the soft flesh of Lizy's arm. Lizy snuggled closer and murmured in her sleep, the movement sending her leg deeper into Gwen's crotch and spreading her lips.  
Indescribable warmth soaked into her slick middle and her breath caught. She ran her hand down Lizy's thigh, reveling in the little girl's shape, and planted a shaky kiss on her forehead. The clean scent of her hair flowed into Gwen's nose, and she drew in a deep breath. Fever raced from the tips of her toes to the crown of her forehead and her throat swelled up to a tiny pinprick. She and Lizy had never done anything, but that was going to change.

Like now.

She slid her hand up Lizy's dress and cupped her silken pussy in her hand. Wet heat enveloped Gwen's senses, and she gave Lizy another kiss, her skin salty on her lips. She gently stroked her middle finger between Lizy's folds and traced her damp opening. Lizy's eyelids fluttered and her breath came in short, hot gasps. Her face turned deep crimson, and her little chest heaved.

Biting her lower lip, Gwen propped herself up on her elbow and pushed Lizy's dress up over her stomach. The smell of her excitement found Gwen's nose and she began to salivate. Lizy's eyes opened to tired, watery slits, and Gwen smiled. "Morning," she said.

"M-Morning," Lizy replied thickly, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," Gwen said. She scooted down and kissed Lizy's stomach. Lizy stiffened a little and watched her with wide, inquisitive eyes like a wary little mouse. Gwen peppered kisses across Lizy's stomach, up her chest, and over her tiny rosebud breasts. Lizy's breathing grew heavier and her nostrils flared, a telltale sign that she was turned on. Gwen ran her finger down Lizy's stomach and giggled when the little girl cringed. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked. She would if Lizy didn't want to.

But she hoped she wouldn't have to.

Lizy swallowed and shook her head. "No."

"Good," Gwen smiled. She found Lizy's opening again and eased one finger in. Lizy spread her legs farther apart to give her better access and her rippling walls formed tight around Gwen's finger as if to coax out a load that wasn't there. Gwen slid her finger in and out, slow at first, then faster as Lizy's natural lubrication began to flow. Lizy licked her lips and moaned in the back of her throat, her hips beginning to mindlessly rock back and forth. Gwen kissed the area right above her pussy, then lower. When she touched Lizy's clit, she jerked, and Gwen smiled against her body. She swirled her tongue around it and stroked Lizy's walls, searching for her G-Spot. She knew about where her own was but -

Lizy's back arched and a gasp ripped from her throat.

Found it.

Gwen massaged it and made love to Lizy's clit with her tongue. Lizy whispered words of encouragement and humped Gwen's face faster. Her warm girl-cum, salty and thin, filled Gwen's mouth and dribbled down her chin in silvery rivulets.

Alright, no more playing around, I need to cum _bad_.

Pulling her finger out, Gwen mounted Lizy and pulled up her shirt. Lizy watched her quizzically. "How do we do this?" she asked. "I never had sex with a girl before."

"Neither have I," Gwen said, "but I think we do it like...this."

She positioned Lizy's legs between hers, braced her arms on either side of Lizy's head, and hesitantly grinded herself against Lizy. Their sexes rubbed wetly together and Gwen's already pounding heartbeat sped up. Lizy shifted her butt and spread her thighs as much as she could, and Gwen clutched the sheets in her hands and went faster. They moaned in unison, and Lizy planted her heels in the mattress. Gwen thrust her hips and Lizy's face contorted in the most beautiful agony. She ran her fingers through Lizy's hair and bent over to kiss her lips. Lizy jammed her tongue into Gwen's mouth, and they grappled for dominance as they moved in frenetic time.

Lizy came first, her tiny frame shaking and her face blazing scarlet, and Gwen followed moments later: Her body contracted painfully, then exploded outward. She froze, hissed through her teeth, and rode the wave of her orgasm back to earth.

Panting and sweaty, they stared into each other's eyes, and Gwen skimmed her thumb along the ridge of Lizy's cheekbone. "How was that?"

Lizy squinted one eye in thought and bunched her lips to the side. "Ummm...it was okay, but Lemy is better. No offense."

Gwen smiled kindly. "He _is _better."

She rolled off and lay next to Lizy. The sheets were damp with their combined fluids, and the hem of her shirt was sodden. Lemy was _much _better. They hadn't been doing it too much lately because he was always so busy trying to make money to support Loan and the baby. She was okay with that, though.

Mostly.

He gave her as much of his time and attention as he could and she loved him for it, but there was something missing, some vital component that she couldn't quite name.

Then, last night, it hit her.

Lemy loved her and Loan equally, but Loan was pregnant with his child. Their love was made manifest in the strongest and most poignant of ways. Meanwhile, their love - hers and Lemy's - was still just...an emotion. There was nothing tangible to show from it. There -

She was trying to philosophize like Lemy now.

Sigh.

Okay, how about being blunt?

She wanted to have Lemy's baby too. That way their bond would be stronger, their relationship cemented in the way that only children can bring.

But no matter how many times she took his seed into her womb, new life just wouldn't take root.

Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she was barren and would never have children.

That prospect scared her.

More, it terrified her.

The thought of watching Lemy make families with his sisters while her fruit rotted on the vine, corrupt and stinking, made her want to cry.

All she could do was keep trying and hoping.

She sat up and stretched. "I have to pee now."

"Me too," Lizy concurred. "I always have to pee after I cum. I wonder why."

They went out into the hallway. "Maybe…" Gwen stopped. The line for the bathroom was five deep: Liby, Lacy, Lyra, Liena, and, at the very back of the pack, Leia.

For over a week, Leia had been angry at her over Lemy. Gwen asked Lemy to be loyal and he rejected Leia. Gwen had a change of heart, but he was still reluctant. Now, Leia hated her. She sneered at Gwen whenever they crossed paths in the hall, then shot her daggers at the dinner table. When she entered the room, the atmosphere darkened, and Gwen always found an excuse to scurry away lest the storm finally break and sweep her away. She was just starting to settle in and feel at home, now she had the strongest sense of otherness, and it occurred to her for the first time in weeks, maybe even months, that she didn't belong. This was not her home and never had been; she had no home. She was a guest at best and Lemy's pet charity case at worst.

No, she reminded herself, the Louds had been nothing but kind to her, especially Mr. Loud and his sisters. She was paranoid, that was all; Leia's anger had knocked her off balance and now she was unsure of her footing just as she had been when she first came to live here.

Even so, part of her wanted to run back into Lemy's room (she had a hard time thinking of it as _her _room) and throw the blankets back over her head. Instead, she took a deep breath, walked over, and stood behind Leia. Lizy stood at Gwen's side, snaked her hand up her nightdress, and unashamedly scratched her own crotch, one eye squinting and the tip of her tongue plastering to her upper lip.

Leia let out a nasty sigh, and Gwen's heart thumped like the fleeing footfalls of a frightened animal. "At least I'm first," Leia said to herself, "that way I don't have to sit in Gwen's AIDS."

Gwen's stomach tightened.

"She's probably swimming in VD," she said. "I bet she even gave it to Lemy."

Lyra and Lacy both looked at her funny.

"His dick's going to rot off and it'll be all that little skank's fault."

Lizy looked up at Gwen in confusion, then at her sister, her underformed brain visibly trying to process what was happening.

"Shut up," Lacy sighed tiredly, "it's too early for this."

"It's not my fault Gwen's a trashy bitch."

The insult hit Gwen in the midsection like a fist and the air left her lungs in a rush. Lizy noticed the hurt on her face, and her brow darkened. "Don't say that," she spat at the back of Leia's head, "Gwen's not a bitch."

"Yes she is," Leia tossed over her shoulder.

"Why are you being so mean to her?" Lizy demanded. "You're a asshhole."

"Why were you just being so gay with her?"

Gwen's face flushed hotly and if she hadn't been so embarrassed, she would have turned tail and ran. "Because she's nice and I like her," Lizy said and put her hands resolutely on her hips. "I would never be gay with you."

"Good," Leia said, "I'm not a pedophile like Gwen."

Lyra's forehead furrowed. "Leia, knock it off," she said. "Put the attitude away and stop being a bitch."

"I don't think she can," Lizy said, "that's why she's not in our harem. No bitches allowed."

So fast Gwen almost missed it, Leia wheeled around and loomed over the little girl like a fairytale monster. Her face was a twisted mask of hatred and her eyes smoldered like two coals, only more hazel. Her lips curled back from her teeth and her balled fists shook at her sides. Lizy shrank back, and before she knew what she was doing, Gwen pushed between them, her fear and trepidation gone and replaced by one thought: Protect Lizy. "Stop it," she said.

Leia's eyes flashed and she took a menacing step forward, her fists raising. Gwen didn't know whether to back down or stand her ground, and thankfully, she didn't have to find out: Liby grabbed Leia by the wrist and jerked her arm behind her back like a tempermental cop with a warrant and a grudge. Leia yelped. "Stop," Liby said in a low, threatening growl, "now."

"Get out of our house!" Leia screamed at Gwen. "No one wants you here, you dirty freeloader."

Liby jerked Leia's arm up between her shoulder blades, and she let out an agonized wail. Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, Liby kneeling behind her. "That's not what I wanted to hear," Liby said.

"GET OFF OF ME, YOU SPYING BITCH!" She thrashed in her sister's grasp, then started calling for her mom. "MOMMY! MOOOOOOOM!" The others looked at her like she was crazy, but Gwen was numb to it all. The adrenaline that had surged through her system when Lizy was in danger had already receded, and now she was hot and shaky. Stinging tears filled her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

_Get out of our house...no one wants you here. _

She knew.

She knew they didn't.

Turning, she rushed back to Lemy's room before she could start crying. Lyra called out to her, and Lizy gave chase. In the room, Gwen threw herself onto Lemy's bed and buried her face in the pillow. She squeezed her eyes closed against the deluge and bit down hard on her lips.

"Gwen," Lizy said, the concern in her voice pushing Gwen even closer to the edge, "are you okay?"

No, she wasn't. She couldn't speak, though, because if she tried, she would break down. Lizy sat next to her and put a hand on her back. "Please don't cry," she begged, "Leia's just a doofus. No one cares what she says."

Gwen did. For better or worse, Gwen cared what she said, and she knew it all to be true. She _was _a freeloader. She came sniffing around one day like a stray cat and she never left again. She was...she _was _trashy. She was everything Leia had said and more. She was everything her _mother _had said and more.

The mattress dipped and she braced herself. "Hey," Lyra said and stroked her hair, "you alright?"

"No," Gwen said, her voice a breaking whisper. "I'm sorry."

Lyra looked surprised. "For what?"

"For being here."

Lyra sighed and tilted her head slightly to one side. "D-Don't be sorry, Gwen. Leia's just being a little bitch. She's getting on _everyone's _nerves."

"It's because of me," Gwen stated.

"I don't know what it is," Lyra said, "but I do know that we love having you here." She offered a smile that struck Gwen as too big, too calculated. "You're just as much our sister now as Leia is. More so, because I've never wanted to punch you in the face. Except when I was a Christian, but I wanted to punch _all_ of you in the face."

"Even me?" Lizy asked.

"Especially you," Lyra winked.

Gwen sniffled and blotted her eyes with the heel of her palm. "I'm going to talk to her," Lyra said, then she grinned. "With Liby's help, of course."

That made Gwen snort. "Don't," she said, "it's okay, just leave her alone."

She didn't want anything happening to Leia on her account.

That might make her former friend hate her even more.

And what right did she have? This was Leia's home, not hers, Leia's family, not hers.

Until…

And that thought, until, carried her through the rest of the day.

Until.

* * *

Lemy left the house at half past noon and walked through the streets of Royal Woods with a perturbed frown on his face. His hands, thrust into the pockets of his jeans, wiggled like two restless jellyfish and his teeth unconsciously worried his bottom lip. With all the crap going on recently, his cup was runnething over, then Leia and Gwen that morning…

He sighed.

Later on, he'd have to talk to her once and for all. Right now, though, he had business to attend to.

Gulp.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I know men occasionally have to swallow their pride, but this is fucking retarded. I'd rather work at gay bathhouse...just as long as the clients leave my butt alone. I'll take a cock to the mouth, fuck it, that doesn't make you gay, enjoying it makes you gay, and trust me, I won't enjoy the taste of fat crank on my tongue. Butt stuff is off the table, though. I like my anus in one piece, thank you very fucking much.

Would he really suck dick for money, though?

He thought of Loan back home and of the baby growing in her stomach.

Ugh. Yes. I would suck dick for money. _Good _money. Like, if I met a rich old homo and he put stacks in my account every time I gobbled his load, then sure, whip it out, papi. But not for less. I gotta have _some _dignity.

Yeah, but what if your baby has to eat and you got nothing to feed it but headbands and Jime Cornette promos?

Well, obviously, Lemy, I'd sell the headbands. People love headbands.

He'd still make more money at the gay bathhouse, though.

Unfortunately for him, the nearest gay bathhouse was in Detroit, and he doubted they'd hire little shota fetish bois like him anyway.

Which left him only one choice for gainful employment.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood at the counter and drummed his fingers nervously on the surface. "So..you, uh, got any openings?"

Flip, all 99.9 years of him, stared down at Lemy with something akin to revulsion. Lemy smiled, but that didn't help his case. "I already got an inbred, I don't need another one."

"Come on," Lemy said, "Loan only works, like, three days a week."

"Labor law, kid," Flip said, "you can't make mental defects work more than fifteen hours in a week. Look it up. If you can read."

"Dude, I can read really well," Lemy said, "I can also do math. I could run the register, stock shelves, you name it. I even know a little bit about cars and stuff. I can fix things. We can make extra money, I'm telling you."

Flip hummed his interest. "Tell you what, Jethro. You fix my cooler in the back and I'll hire you."

The cooler stood between the hall leading to the bathroom and a freezer filled with frozen dinners. Five feet wide and three feet high, it was dark and unplugged, just sitting there like a coffin waiting to be buried (_hurry it up, asshole, I got places to be_). Lemy plugged it in and nothing happened.

It was likely the cooling component. They were always breaking on these things.

He pulled the cooler away from the wall, grunting and straining because he skipped arm day, then got down on one knee and checked the toolbox Flip gave him. He selected a flathead screwdriver and removed the plate covering the motor. Next, he reached inside and felt around, then peeked in.

To make a very long and very technical story short, it took him nearly an hour but he found the problem: A mouse had somehow gotten into the fan blades. They took his life away, then he got his revenge by blocking the blades until the motor overloaded and died. It was poetic, in a way, like dropping a grenade after someone kills you in _Call of Honor_ and taking your murderer with you. It reminded him of this movie called _Demon Knight. _These demons were punking people in a hotel and this one black woman had a fucking grenade vest on. The demons were coming at her and this cop, and the cop's gun ran out of bullets. She pulled a string that ripped all the pins out at once, then said _Suppertime, motherfuckers. _

LOL, black people be wilin'.

"Hey, Flip, you got another motor?"

"Check the storeroom."

Lemy did and found the part he was looking for on a shelf. He went back, installed it, and plugged the cooler in. It coughed, sputered, then came to life, its hum sickly at first, then hale and healthy. HA.

Getting to his feet, Lemy dusted off his hands, put the tools back into the box, and went to the counter, where Flip worked on the crossword puzzle. "She's all fixed," Lemy said proudly.

"Yeah?" Flip asked without looking up.

"Yep." Lemy waited, then: "Do I have the job?"

Flip looked at him over the tops of his reading glasses. "What's a seven letter word meaning _similar word?" _

Really? Dude, c'mon, just give me my fucking - oh wait, I know this.

"Synonym," Lemy said.

Flip arched his eyebrows incredulously (_I bet you're wrong_) then wrote it down. His forehead crinkled and he shot Lemy a hard glower. "How the hell did you know that?"

Because it's elementary school tier shit?

He didn't say that out loud, though. "I said I read."

Flip looked him up and down then went back to the crossword. "So?" Lemy asked. "Can I work here?"

For a suspenseful moment, the old man didn't answer, and Lemy was starting to worry, "Yeah, fine," he grumbled. "Be here tomorrow."

A big, stupid grin crept across Lemy's face.

And that's how Lemy NotLimpbiscuit Loud got his first job.


	19. Broken Things

**Joni C69: I don't think the BurgerTac's in here. Maybe I'll add him somewhere.**

**FumaFam101: I was feeling a little sentimental for this story the other day and decided to use that to finish it off and finally give everyone a real ending. **

**I would like to thank my good friend BizarreJoe for supporting me and this story and for occasionally bothering me to finish it. When I decided, Friday night, to wite these chapters - when I decided I **_**may **_**write these chapters - he's the first one I talked to about them. He also came up with two of the major plot points in a later chapter. Check him out here on FFN, he's a great writer and the whole reason I wanted to ship Lemy and Lizy in the first place.**

* * *

**Lyrics to **_**Twisted Transistor **_**by Korn (2005)**

Lyra Loud perched on the edge of the work bench with her arms crossed over her chest and impatiently tapped one stylish boot on the cement floor. Leia sat in a straight back kitchen chair with her arms folded and her head whipped to one side. Liby stood over her, hands clasped behind her hand. A lamp shone in Leia's face and every so often, the little blonde lost her composure and blinked. "Are you going to talk?" Liby asked. "Or am I going to have to torture you?"

"You wouldn't _dare,_" Leia said.

Turning on her heels, Liby went to a desk, opened a tool box, and took out a pair of pliers. She wasn't really going to torture Leia, but Leia didn't know that. At least, Lyra didn't think she would tortue Leia.

She turned and walked back over to the chair. Leia's defiant mask slipped. "You won't really do it."

"Try me," Liby said, "I've been itching to yank someone's teeth out for months."

Leia's eyes darted uncertainly from Liby to Lyra and back again. "Go ahead," she said. There was little force in her voice.

"Why are you mad at Gwen?" Liby asked.

That was enough to assure Leia that she was not, in fact, going to have the teeth yanked from her head. "It's none of your business."

"I think it is," Lyra said, forestalling Liby's reply. She got to her feet and strode over, her heels clicking on the concrete. "You almost hit her and you almost hit Lizy too."

Leia rolled her eyes. "I was not going to hit Lizy."

"Yeah?" Lyra asked. "It sure looked like you were. Look, we just wanna help."

"Okay then," Leia said, "go pack Gwen's bags."

Lyra hung her head and drew a deep breath. A long time ago, she wasn't a very good big sister. She was more worried about getting laid and having fun than she was about her siblings. Given Liena and Loan's, um, personalities, they weren't fit to be the Official Big Sister the way Aunt Lori was for _her _siblings. That role rightly fell to Lyra, but she completely blew it off. A lot had changed in her family over the past few weeks, and she was committed to changing too. She no longer slept with her father (and had only been with Lemy three times, when the physical cravings got _really _bad), and was trying her hardest to be a better big sis.

This...whatever...between Gwen and Leia was the first test of her resolve, and though she didn't show it (she hoped), she had no idea what the hell she was even doing. Being a cool big sister is easy - blow your brother, let your sisters stay up all night, order pizza - but being a _good _big sister was hard as fuck.

"C'mon," she said earnestly, "we wanna help, stop giving us attitude and just tell us what your problem is."

"I don't like Gwen anymore."

"Why?"

"She's a fucking ho."

Liby twirled the pliers in her hand and fixed them with a loving gaze. "Don't you sell blowjobs, Leia?"

No response.

"There's a reason," Lyra said. "Just tell us. What, did you have a fight? Did she do something to you? Work with me here."

For a second, Leia looked like she was going to say something, then it was gone. "Can I go now?"

Liby stared longingly at the pliers, her nostrils flaring. If Lyra didn't know any better, she'd say her younger sister was getting horny. She wasn't, though. She missed the thrill of being a secret agent/mercenary/whatever the hell she called herself. Lyra could feel her pain: She missed being fucked from behind by random dudes she didn't know and would never see again. The thrill of being bad, the taboo, the _diiiiick…_

She coughed.

That was all in the past, though. From now on, she'd only do Lemy here and there until she found a steady boyfriend, a guy she could love and make a life with. No more casual, anonoymus sex with total strangers and no more slutting her fevered little butt all over town. No more being penetrated while -

She was starting to get turned on.

Damn it.

"Yes, you can go now," Liby said. She was cross eyed looking at the pliers and her tone was hazy, faraway.

Leia got up, stuck her tongue out at Lyra, and marched up the stairs. When she was gone, Lyra threw her head back and let out a frustrated puff of air. "I suck," she said. It came out blasse, but she meant it. She sucked as a big sister. Her little sis had some serious shit going on and she couldn't get it out of her. A better big sister would have; a better big sister would have coaxed the story out and made everything better. But not her. All she was good for was sucking dick and pissing everyone off with her God talk. She was over the Christian thing, but - what did it matter? Christian or not, she was a loser.

She looked at Liby and raised her brow. Liby stared lovingly at the pliers and stroked the cold metal teeth with her middle finger. "Uh, Lib, I get that you missing being 007 but -"

"Shhh," Liby said, "let me have my memories."

Oooookay then.

Leaving Liby to her memories, Lyra went upstairs. In the kitchen, Aunt Leni sat at the table with her legs crossed and hummed an airy tune to herself as she scrolled through her phone. You know, Leni's simple but she's always happy; she was the sweetest, most caring person Lyra had ever known, and sometimes she wished she could trade in her old slutty Lyra brain for a Leni Model. Better to be dumb and awesome than smart (okay, let's face it, average) and a fuck up.

Lyra sighed, and Leni jerked. "Oh," she said and relaxed, "Hi, Lyra."

"Hey," Lyra said. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at adoption agencies," Leni said. "I want a new baby and since your dad's fixed, I gotta buy one at the baby store." She pouted.

A new baby? Lyra inwardly groaned. They hadn't even recovered from the last one. Speaking of which, where was she? Probably sitting in a web in the vents somewhere waiting for a rat to come along. Shiver. Of all the outlandish things Lyra had ever seen, Lulu was number one. Lyra loved her to pieces, but really, a mutant, Aunt Lisa? What, are you too good to push a kid out the old fashioned way?

"Good luck with that," Lyra said and went into the living room. She highly doubted Leni would get her new baby. Thank God for small favors. Lyra could barely handle the siblings she had much less another infant.

Man she needed to get fucked.

Heh. Who said that? Not me. I'm not a slut anymore, remember?

Plus, like Lisa said, it was okay to like sex and to have it with guys who aren't your brother and father. Like, seriously, she could let them double team her all day long and it was perfectly fine, but the moment she did a guy who wasn't related to her, she was a slut? Yeah, that was pretty flawed logic. And she was dumb enough to let it get to her. _Oh, you're a slut, Lyra, ewww. _NOOOOO, I DON'T WANT TO BE A SLUT. Please, you're just mad I'm not fucking _you_. Guess what, buddy, even hos like me have standards, and if your man tits stick out farther than your dick does, chances are, you're probably not getting any pussy any time soon. Seethe harder, incel.

She realized her panties were damp and threw her head back. Goddamn it, I'm not even thinking sexy thoughts! Why? WHY?

Feeling sorry for herself, Lyra went upstairs and took a cold shower.

Her first of many that day.

* * *

That night, Lemy lay between Gwen and Lizy, his arm around either one's shoulders and his flaccid dick resting limply against his thigh. Gwen and Lizy took turns with their mouths, Gwen's technique refined and toe curling and Lizy's sloppy and clumsy but enthusiastic. He nutted in Gwen's mouth and when he was done, she and Lizy kissed, his load swishing back and forth between their mouths until both had swallowed an equal share. He offered to get them off too, but they were happy humping his legs.

LMAO, whatever gets you there.

Now, alone with his thoughts, it was high time to worry.

Or to think of irrelevant shit.

That was kind of a dangerous coping mechanism. He was like the dog in that meme. It's sitting there with a cup of Joe while its house fucking burns all around it. And it's all like _THIS IS FINE_. Everyone has their own way of dealing with shit, though. Some guys hid away in video games, some guys hid away in pussy, and some guys hid away in the chambers of their own mind. His mind was fertile ground, but it was kind of running on empty, Jackson Browne style. That was a seventies singer-songwriter. God, has there ever been a more pretentious kind of musician? They were the kind of guys who sat on a stool with their acoustic guitar and sang about flowers and shit. Some of it was pretty good, but a lot of it sucked. If we're going back to the seventies, I'll take some Dr. Hook.

They have a video on YouTube of them singing a song called _Walk Right In. _Kind of a...what would you call it...country inspired sort of song? He didn't know, but there was this dude in the background shredding a harmonica. Guy was basically the Angus Young of wind instruments. I like to think that that video was his audition. _Alright, kid, come play this song with us and if you do good, you're in_. Naturally, he goes out and plays like his fucking life depends on it. In fact, he kind of reminded Lemy of Lizy, just replace the harmonica with a dick.

And they had another one about being stoned. Big porn star looking guy with a luscious mustache sang it. Had moves like a fucking karate star, too.

Lemy ran his fingers through his tangled hair and looked at Gwen. Asleep, she was at peace, but awake, her spirit was in turmoil. As it had been this whole time. From the very beginning of their relationship, he'd been making her feel unloved, first with basically deadfishing her and pining for Lyra, now with this harem shit. She didn't say anything anymore, but he suspected that it still bothered her. And that's what was bothering Leia. Gwen said she was okay with Leia joining, but he didn't want to add anymore heads. Mainly for Gwen's sake. He already had Lizy and Loan and why did he keep hurting Gwen? The first girl to ever love him, honestly love him, and every chance he got, he plunged a dagger into her heart. Now Loan was pregnant...and Lizy...and Leia...and, man, where did this go wrong?

The first time he banged one of his sisters?

What if...what if he and Leia didn't do it that day? What if he wasn't hung up on Lyra? What if his first time was with Gwen and he was able to love her and only her?

Life's full of what ifs, huh? I'm young but I can clearly see that. Imagine having ten, twenty, or even thirty years of regrets piled on your chest. How do people do it?

In other news, did you know you can plug a Sega Genesis controller into an Atari 2600? He had a couple Atari carts in his closet and meant to build a 2600 on his own, but he kind of forgot. Those games were ancient and probably didn't even work anyway. What was he really missing, though? The 2600 Pac-Man port? AKA the second most disappointing game ever behind only ET? ET was a _real _let down. It was confusing and the controls sucked, so everyone either brought it back to the store or didn't buy it to begin with. Atari finally buried a bunch of cartridges in a mass grave in the desert. Legend has it that on cold, windy nights, you can still hear _bleeps _and _boops, _like a mournful call from the beyond.

He yawned. Tomorrow, he started at Flip's, and he was already preparing for a neverending roast session. But hey, he got roasted at school, at least now he was getting paid to take it on his face.

Not much, though. Flip paid minimum wage and that's not enough to raise a kid on. If he worked hard and didn't give up, maybe one day his checks wouldn't be a joke, but who knew.

The edges of his brain were beginning to blur like ink, and he could feel himself dropping off. He turned and kissed Lizy's forehead, then Gwen's. She smiled faintly in her sleep, and Lemy's heart swelled with love. He slipped his left arm out from between Lizy and the mattress and brushed his thumb across Gwen's chin.

"I love you," he said around a lump of emotion, "and I promise I always will."

He kissed her again, then turned out the light, plunging the room into darkness.

That night, he lay awake for a long, long time.

* * *

_Hey you, hey you, devil's little sister_

_Listening to your twisted transistor_

The girl sat alone in the dark, her legs crossed and her pallid features lit by the feeble glow of a midnight cigarette. Unseen smoke swirled around her head like dancing phantoms and her watery eyes stared past the window across the room. A cold shaft of moonlight fell through the nicotine smudged glass and crept across the floor. An hour ago - maybe more, maybe less - it barely reached past the bed, now it was almost to her foot, coming ever closer like a hungry mass in a Stephen King story.

Too bad it wasn't.

_Hold it between your legs_

_Turn it up, turn it up_

_The wind is coming through_

She brought the filter to her lips and took a quick, mechanical drag, the cherry momentarily brightening to reveal even more of her fish-like face. She blew a plume of smoke without tasting it and went on staring at the window. Days ago, weeks, maybe even years, she told herself that she would stop doing what she did with her father. She wanted a normal relationship with him. _She _wanted to be normal. Only she wasn't. She was broken. Shake her and hear the bits and pieces rattle.

A sardonic smile played at the corners of her lips but fled just as quickly as it came.

_A lonely life where no one understands you_

_But don't give up because the music do_

_Music do music do_

This wasn't new, the deep melancholia and self-loathing had always been a part of her, just like her white hair and brown eyes. She wasn't dropped in transit, she wasn't used and abused into an early grave by her owner...this is just how she was. She hated what she saw in the mirror, so she didn't look into them; she hated the sound of her own voice, so she rarely spoke above a whisper; she was never comfortable out there, in the world, the great big open, so she sequestered herself here, iin her bedroom, where she could close the door and be alone with her demons.

_Because the music do_

_And then it its reaching_

_Inside you forever preaching_

_Fuck you too_

_Your screams will whisper_

_Hang on you_

_Twisted transistor_

She threw her head back and let out a genuine laugh. Oh, that was rich. Alone with demons in a place of sadness. Hahahaha. She sounded just like her mother. Only Mom was faking. Mom didn't know what real sadness was. Real sadness, terminal sadness, comes not from without, but from within, manufactured by all the little twisted transistors in your heart and soul, whispering words of hate to each other. Some people are naturally light and buoyant, others sour and somber. She was the latter. She always had been.

What was wrong with her?

_Hey you, hey you, finally you get it_

_The world it can eat you if you let it _

Inexplicable fury rose in her breast, and she balled her free hand into a fist. She was not aware of her jagged, unclipped nails digging into the padding of her palm, nor did she notice that an ember had fallen from her cigarette and landed on the carpet, where it flared then went out. She bought her fist down on the arm of the chair and relished in the pain shooting up her arm. Fucking stupid shit. Fucking STUPID. She had no _fucking _reason for this. She had not one fucking excuse for feeling like this and she was sick of it. She was sick of the highs and lows, sick of surging with energy one minute then curling up in a ball on the floor the next. Suicide? No, fuck suicide, and fuck you too. She didn't wanna die. No one _wants _to die. She wanted to be happy. When someone fucking kills themselves it's because they've lost hope of being happy. There's something deeply wrong and they can't handle it. Guarantee everyone who's ever killed themselves would have rather been happy instead. Even poor old Hitler down in his bunker.

_And as your tears fall on_

_Your dress, your dress_

_But when she's coming through_

_You're in a mess_

She was happy...sometimes. Other times she was so sad that she cried for no reason at all. There you go, broken thing. "I probably need help," she croaked in the darkness.

For some reason she could not name, that struck her as funny and she laughed until she cried, then cried until she laughed again. She looked her symptoms up on WebMD once and it was _probably _bipolar, though it could be something else. The severe highs and lows she felt were in line with BPD, so yeah, she was likely bipolar. Another cherry on top of the sunade called life. What's next, lung cancer?

She looked at her cigarette.

Eh. It takes a while.

_A lonely life where no one understands you_

_But don't give up because the music do_

_Music do music do_

One symptom they didn't cover on WebMD was the need for constant validation. That's what she had, you know. She only felt good and loved and worthy and all that other shit when she was fucking her father. She was garbage when she was anywhere else but in his arms; with him, she felt...whole? Complete?

She cocked her head to the side. No, not exactly those things. She felt...she felt like she had a purpose or...or...value. How fucked up is that? Staking your personal worth on other peoples' opinions is pretty fucking stupid, but she couldn't help it. She was the cracked mug. Fill it up with love and watch it all drain out until it's empty again. Rinse, recycle, repeat.

_Hey you, hey you, this won't hurt a bit_

_This won't hurt a bit, this won't hurt_

_Says who, says who?_

_Anesthetize this bitch_

_Anesthetize this bitch,_

Now she was tired. She took another drag of her cigarette and tipped the ash on the floor. Dad or Mom or someone would lose their shit if they saw that. Lana would love it because it meant she got to rip up the carpet and lay down a new one. Don't they realize how pointless their busy work is? How pointless all of it ultimately is?

EDGELORD, the ghosts in the wings cried.

Fuck you.

Just fuck you. She was so sick of stupid people who couldn't think past the tip of their nose. They look at her like she' was a fucking poser or a joke. You'd think they'd know how pointless it all is considering they're losers. They flip burgers, play games on the internet, and eat Ramen standing over the sink. They're life has no meaning. Their life has no purpose. They think they're special and unique, but they're not. They're just another cog in the wheel of time. When they break, you clean their apartment up and rent it out to someone else, boom, it's like they never lived in the first place. They're totally expendable. Most of us are.

Does that mean give up and die? No, not at all. It just meant...laugh a little, you're a piece of shit and nothing matters. She didn't matter. She knew that. She was just another suburban white girl. Put her in a dress or jeans, pink or baclk, it didn't matter. We're all the same. Some might be a little smarter or prettier, but our spots in hell are all 1000 degrees. Everything we do is just killing time. Don't people get that? Some of us kill time better than others, but we all fill our hours waiting for death some way. You do it with 4chan and video games, I do it sitting in the dark and chain smoking. You can laugh at me, and I can laugh at you. Haw haw. But what's the point?

Unless you enjoy laughing at other people, I guess. She didn't. There's nothing inherently funny about misery. It's just another state of being.

The cigarette reached her fingers and stung her flesh. She winced, stubbed it out on the arm of the chair, and flicked the butt into the shadows. She thought for the millionth time of her brother, the only boy - the only person - who made her feel as good as Dad did. It was a different feeling, not altogether the same, but it was close, and the more she ran him through her mind, the more she realized she wanted him, wanted to gaze into his eyes as she made him cum, wanted to see on his face the affection and devotion she once saw on her father's, wanted to know that he loved her and thought she was pretty.

Wanted to know that to him...in that one moment of surrender...she _wasn't _meaningless.

In other words, she had the sick compulsion to wreck the only halfway normal relationship she had. She had always been closer to Lemy than to anyone else because they were both outsiders. Neither one of them fit. They were both deep thinkers and, she suspected, they both carried a great burden in their hearts. Why didn't they hook up already? Why didn't she go into his room long ago, slip into his bed, and share his loneliness? Why didn't she go to him instead of Dad? They could have been together and maybe...maybe they could have made each other happy.

Hot tears welled in her eyes and she wiped them away with the frayed cuff of her hoodie. She still could...but she didn't want to fuck this up too. She would never have a normal relationship with her father, never. She'd seen too much of him, done too many things to him. She knew her dad in a way that a girl was never supposed to know her father. None of her sisters would ever be able to look at him as just Dad, he would always be something else, something perverted, something he was not meant to be. Surely, the others felt the same abiding shame that she did. That shit doesn't go away. It sticks with you for a lifetime.

She ruined her relationship with her father and now she had her sights set on Lemy, the one normal and beautiful thing she could claim.

Reaching out, she slid another cigarette from her pack and lit it. Her hand shook and images she didn't want to entertain raced through her head. Lemy running his hands over her naked body, kissing her pasty skin as though it were ambrosia, Lemy sinking himself into her and kissing her deeply as his hips began to rock. She saw herself hook her feet over his and holding his hips the way she did with Dad; subconsciously keeping them from leaving her? He'd hold her afterwards the way she'd seen him hold Gwen and Lizy and Loan. Dad never did that. He didn't pull her to his strong chest, kiss the back of her neck, and stroke her body until she was hot and shivering again. He just...laid there, looking up at the ceiling like he just made a huge mistake and hated himself for it. Lemy wasn't like that...he would cuddle her and tickle the backs of her legs with his toes until her stony facade crumbled and she giggled like a girl. He would…

A thought struck her like a bullet from the black, and her heart leapt against her ribcage in startled excitement.

He would fix her.

If she was a broken mug, he would be the sealant that closed the crack and kept all the love he poured into her from coming out. It all made sense to her, she couldn't retain her father's love because he wasn't giving her any. Lemy would. Lemy would hold her, kiss her, touch her, play with her hair, he'd do all of the things that she had been so desperately yearning for. He would do for her what he did for Loan and Gwen, he would make her happy.

And she could make him happy in return. None of the others understood him the way she did. Gwen...well...maybe a little because she was something of an outsider too, but not in her own body...not in her own mind. Gwen and the others might understand facets of Lemy's personality, but she had a broader picture. She knew what lurked in his heart because it was the same thing that lurked in hers. They were both fractured people...and two halves make a whole, don't they?

In the darkness, Lupa smiled.


	20. Healthy and Whole Again

**Guest: The BS series is a sequel to We Love Our Brother and We Still Love Our Brother, where Lisa creates a libido enhancing pheromone that accidentally infects the entire family. The sin kids thus have stronger sex drives than the normal person. Some (like Lyra) are worse off than others, but they're all affected, which is why the idea of fucking their father doesn't faze them. It does Lincoln. He felt an obligation to have sex with his daughters as a way of helping them. Some of the girls have since gravitated toward Lemy, Liby and Lacy to each other, etc. Lincoln does not particularly like having sex with his children but he's always seen it as something he had to do for their own good. Thus, it's just another case of his unshakable loyalty to his family leading him to do things he isn't fond of, the way it led him to play football with Lynn and to listen to Luan's corny jokes. **

**I address this more at the bottom.**

* * *

**Lyrics to **_**Talk To Me **_**by Stevie Nicks (1985)**

How do you know if you're barren?

Gwen had been asking herself that since she woke in the small hours of the morning, her body pressed against Lemy's and her leg thrown over his. Is there a test? There had to be. She'd see movies where grim-faced doctors sat anxious couples down and broke the bad news. That meant there was _some _way to find out. How did they do it, though? She once heard a whispered rumor that in order to test for gonorrhea, they shove a cotton swab up your pee hole. She didn't know what gonorrhea felt like, but there was _noooo_ way it could hurt as bad as having something jammed inside you. Would they have to do that to find out if she could have babies? Or could they, like, do an X-Ray?

She told herself she needed to give it time, but she had _already _given it time. Lemy rarely ever pulled out and they had had tons of sex. The laws of averages said she should be carrying his child by now, but she wasn't.

Why?

It obviously wasn't Lemy's fault, so it had to be her. There was something wrong downstairs and she would never be able to give birth to his children. She'd always be an auntie and never a mommy. She'd help raise other women's kids while pining for her own.

The ultimate cuck.

A band of fear tightened around her chest and she took a deep, calming breath. Maybe there wasn't anything wrong. Her body was still technically a child's (even though she got her period), so maybe her womb just wasn't ready to accept Lemy's seed. The Louds weren't normal, so they could probably have kids at Lizy's age; she, on the other hand, _was _normal, too normal.

She rolled onto her back and hugged herself for comfort. Waiting and seeing really was the best option, but she didn't want to; every moment that passed was a moment that she didn't know whether or not she could ever truly be one with the man she loved. Waiting it out might be easy for some girls in this situation, but not her. She wanted to know right now.

Soon, tepid morning light spread through the room and the house began to stir. Footsteps went up and down the stairway leading to the third floor and the bathroom door opened and closed. Voices drifted in from the hall, and Gwen's heart froze in her chest.

Was it Leia?

Yesterday, after what happened in the bathroom line, Gwen spent most of the day hiding in Lemy's room and stiffening every time someone passed without. She wasn't physically afraid of Leia - she was sure she could take her - but she _was _afraid of what might happen if they got into a fight. The Louds might decide she was causing trouble and make her leave, or Leia would keep on hating her, and she would never be able to relax ever again. She told Lemy to just let Leia into their harem, but he didn't want to. He made a promise, he said, and he was going to keep it. _I appreciate that, Lemy, _she said, _and you're a good man, but it doesn't bother me anymore_. And to be honest, it didn't. This arrangement was...different...and took some getting used to, but they were making it work.

He was being stubborn, though. That was one of his worst flaws. It wasn't really all that bad, but bad enough that it stuck out. In most every other way, he was perfect, he just had a really hard head.

As if on cue, Lemy opened his eyes and squinted at her. Her heart soared as it always did when he looked at her, and a big smile touched her lips. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied.

She cupped his cheek in her hand, bent over, and kissed him, her tongue slowly and reverantly caressing his. She splayed her hand on his chest and rubbed a soft circle in his flesh, smiling against his lips when he tensed. "How'd you sleep?" she asked.

"Alright," he said and brushed his fingers through her hair. "You?"

She hesitated. To tell the truth or not to tell the truth. "Eh," she said, settling for the middle.

"Eh?" he asked.

"Eh," she confirmed.

"Why eh?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"Leia?"

The bare mention of Leia's name sent a ripple of disquiet through Gwen's stomach. "Kind of," she confessed, "but not just her."

"Then what?"

How could she express to him what she had been thinking over the past few days? How could she tell him that she wanted to have his child and was terrified that she wouldn't be able to? "Nothing, really," she said.

"You sure?" he asked.

She nodded and skimmed the tip of her nose over his. "Yep."

He smiled and kissed her, then sat up. Lizy groaned and rolled toward the wall, her dress riding up to her bare her cute little butt. "I gotta take a leak," Lemy yawned. He climbed out of bed, got to his feet, and stretched. He started across the room, but Gwen stopped him. "Uh, babe?"

"Yeah?"

She leaned over, grabbed his boxers from the floor, and threw them at him. "I love your body but I don't think your Mom and Dad want to see it."

"Probably not," he agreed. He pulled them on and went out into the hall.

When he was gone, Gwen stretched out on her back and stared up at the latticework of sun and shadows tattooed across the ceiling. Would Lemy even want to have kids with her right now? He already had one on the way, and he was stressed over it. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to support it (to which there might be truth) and that he would be a bad father (no truth at all). Really, the last thing he needed was for her to get pregnant too.

She was being selfish. Lemy and his family had always been kind and selfless toward her, now it was time for her to repay the favor.

Still...what if she couldn't have children?

An idea struck her and her eyes widened.

Duh.

She knew _exactly _how to find out.

Lisa.

* * *

Loan Loud stood in the middle of the sunny kitchen and curiously prodded her stomach, her eyes glued to the front of her rumpled sweater. Her gut, always a little soft and flabby because veggies are for fags and Mountain Dew and Doritos are foods of the gods, was a little firmer than normal, like there was something living in there. Oh, right, there was, a baby.

She paid enough attention to Lisa's lectures to know that her body was preparing to undergo massive changes thanks to her new passenger, but not enough to know exactly what those changes were. A pregnant woman's stomach gets harder to protect the baby, like a shell or something, so that's prbably what this was. Then again, would it start so soon? She occasionally stripped naked and studied herself in the full lenght mirror on the back of the bathroom door; she wasn't showing yet, so there was no need for her stomach to get hard already.

Right?

Eh, whatever. She got a bowl from the drying rack, filled it with cereal, and added milk. She sat at the kitchen table, then got back up and grabbed a spoon. She was just sitting down again when her mother entered from the dining room. Loan's shoulders tensed and her gaze lowered to the bowl in front of her. Loan had never had the best relationship with her mom, but lately the old bitch was really giving her grief. _You're not ready for this, Loan, uhh, you're not cut out to be a mother, uhh_.

What really pissed Loan off was the fact that maybe Mom was right. Maybe she wasn't ready for a crying, shitting, kicking baby. Then she thought of holding it in her arms, and the swelling love in her chest muscled out all self-doubt. She _was _ready for this and Mom just needed to get over it.

Mom went to the sink, took a coffee mug down from the counter, and filled it. "I don't think sugary cereal is part of Lisa's diet plan."

"The baby wants it," Loan grunted.

"No, you want it. The baby wants healthy food."

Loan ignored her.

Mom stared contemplatively out the window over the sink, the sunlight sheening her features and accentuating all her lines and blemishes. From the wrong angles, she looked far older than her years, and from the right ones, Loan could almost glimpse the happy, carefree girl she used to be. "It's not too late for an abortion," Mom said.

It took Loan a moment to register what her mother had said. "No, thanks," she said, taking a bite of her cereal. "We're keeping it."

Mom sighed. "Loan…"

"I want my baby, I'm having my baby," Loan said. "Simple as that. Me and Lemy -"

"He's a thirteen year old boy," Mom snapped, one hand chopping the air for emphasis.

While that was true, the implication of what her mother meant offended Loan. "He loves me," she said tightly, "and he loves our baby."

Mom turned to face her. "I never said he didn't, but he's a child, Loan. He can't even work a job yet. He-He's not ready for this any more than you are. You don't think he's scared out of his mind? You don't think he's eaten alive with worry right now trying to figure out what he's going to do?"

"We talked it over," Loan said, "we'll find a way. Together."

The last thing Loan expected her mother to do was laugh. "God, it's happening again," she said to herself. She pressed her hand to her forehead. "All of it." She came over and sat in the chair at Loan's right hand. Loan watched her warily, as though her mother would lash out and hit her at any moment. Mom had never abused her or threatened to, but Loan wasn't takng any chances with _anyone_. The only two people she trusted her Lemy and her father, and come to think of it, she didn't even trust Dad all that much.

"Honey," Mom said, softening her tone, "I understand how you feel. I do. I just don't want you to make the same mistake I did."

And there we have it.

Loan sat heavily back in her seat and fixed her mother with a withering look. "So I'm a mistake. Nice to know."

"No," Mom said quickly, "I didn't mean it that way, I meant -"

"That is how you meant it," Loan said. Her chest smoldered like a hot bed of embers, and the wounded expression on her mother's face served only to rake them into fury, Her entire life, Mom had been on her case, constantly bitching, constantly criticizing, never happy, never satisfied, pushing her and pushing her. "You wish you never had me. You wish you were a CEO right now instead of my mother. Just go ahead and say it. Everyone knows it's true."

The edges of her vision were turning gray and her heart, normally as lazy and inert as she was, began to slam a frenzied tempo against her ribcage. All of the anger, resentment, and, yes, even pain her mother had caused her over the years came bubbling up from a deep, toxic well that she didn't even know was inside of her and the charges spilled from her mouth as if pulled forth by some outside agency.

"Loan!" Mom yelped, shocked. "T-T-That...no."

"It is. I've known my whole life that I'm not good enough for you. Nothing I could ever do would make you happy because you didn't want me in the first place. That's why I don't try. There's no pleasing you."

Mom flinched, then a dark shadow crossed her face. "Stop it," she said. "None of that is true. I want the best for you. If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't push you."

"And if you cared you'd fucking back off every once in a while."

"And let you ruin your life?"

"Like you ruined yours?"

Blood pounded against Loan's temples and she felt lightheaded, like someone else was in control of her body.

"I wasn't ready for a baby when I was eighteen," Mom said in a rush, "but I had you and I took care of you. I _loved _her. I did what was best for you, Loan. But there's a big difference. I didn't have half of the problems you do. Taking care of a baby is hard work, I don't think you can do it."

"Because you don't think very much of me," Loan said. She stood, bumping into the table, and brushed past her mother. Rage surged through her veins and dulled her senses; she floated rather than walked and barely heard her mother calling after her. "Fuck you, bitch," she said. "I'm having my baby and I'm not gonna fuck it up the way you fucked me up."

She stormed through the living room, barely aware of Liby, Lacy, Lyra, and Lola looking at her, and pounded up the steps. Why do you spend so much time in your room, Loan? Huh? Why don't you socialize with everyone? Why are you such a shut in? Why are you such a filithy slob?

THIS IS WHY!

Fuck Mom. Fuck Dad. Fuck all of them. Mom thought she was so much better than her but yeah, she wasn't. She just wanted to feel better about herself because she failed in her life. Boo hoo, I had a baby. You shouldn't have laid back and opened your legs for your little brother if you couldn't handle having kids.

Did Mom ever consider getting an abortion?

Stupid question, she absolutely did. Mom was a selfish little person and that was probably the first thought she had - gotta get rid of it.

Maybe she should have.

Loan never asked to be alive. It was Mom and Dad's bad fucking choices. But at least Dad loved and accepted her. Mom was just a fucking bitch and always had been.

Whatever. Can't change that. But she _could _be better, and that's exactly what she was going to do.

She was going to be a better mother than Lori Loud.

Downstairs, Lori sank into a kitchen chair and heaved a deep, watery breath. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall; doing so would be a surrender of control and she couldn't do that...not right now.

She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to regain her composure, but Loan's words echoed through her head like a blood-curdling scream. _I'm not good enough for you...you wish you never had me…_

Lori's stomach turned and her heart ached from the center of her chest like a cancer-riddled tumor.

None of that was true. She loved her daughter more than life itself and she wanted her to succeed. She lived every single day of her life for her. She pushed her because she needed to be pushed. Do you think it was easy for her to watch her daughter struggle so much? Do you really think she was happy knowing that Loan could hardly bring herself to leave her room? No, it killed her inside. It had been killing her this entire time. Loan obviously wasn't happy, and it was up to Lori to help her find happiness, so she pushed her to come out of her shell, to socialize, to get a job, to pull herself up by her own bootstraps and become normal. Maybe she was a little hard on her now and then, but she did it because she cared.

_You never wanted me. _

Did Loan really believe that? Did she honestly carry that terrible misconception around with her?

Tears streaked down Lori's cheeks and she wiped them away.

"What's going on?"

Lincoln stood over her, a worried look on his face. His hand closed comfortingly around the back of her neck and she came so close to breaking down that her heart jumped into her throat. "Me and Loan...had an argument."

She told him everything, and when she was done, Lincoln drew a deep sigh. "Lori…"

"She thinks I don't love her," Lori heard herself say. Her voice cracked and the tears came faster. "She thinks I don't want her."

"Lori," Lincoln said and knelt, "she's going through a lot right now."

"I know," Lori said, "it's too much for her to handle."

"Maybe," Lincoln said, "but it was too much for us to handle too. And we got through it. I know you want the best for her, but...this is life. This is where she is right now."

Lori sniffed. "What do I do?"

"Support her," Lincoln said. "Let her know you love her and that you're there for her. She and Lemy both want this baby, the only thing you can do now is accept it."

She considered his words for a long time before nodding. For twenty-one years, she watched her daughter teeter through life, hurting every step of the way because Loan wasn't normal and would likely never have a totally normal life. She pushed her to excel and rooted for her to get better, but sometimes, people are imperfect, and you have to meet them on their own terms.

"Okay," she said, and she meant it.

She would accept Loan and Lemy, she would accept their baby.

Just as long as her daughter was happy.

And her grandchild too.

* * *

Leia Loud sat in the middle of her bed like a prisoner in a cell and glared sullenly at the wall. It had been a week since Lemy turned her away, and each day, instead of subsiding, the hurt and anger in her chest only grew. She took it all out on Gwen, but it wasn't _just _Gwen, it was Lizy and Loan too. The three of them had Lemy and she didn't; she had to sit on the sidelines and watch him loving them while he wouldn't even look at her. Did they have any idea what that felt like? Did Lemy?

It hurt.

A lot.

Every night she cried herself to sleep and every day she existed in a haze of anger. It wasn't fair. How could he do this to her? She took his V-Card, she had dibs! Then Gwen and Lizy came along, then Loan. Why couldn't he be with her too? Dad did it. Dad was with all of his sisters.

Was there something wrong with _her? _

Leia was not one to doubt herself. She was pretty, bright, and confident. That she was wracked with self-doubt now made her so mad she could barely think straight. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.

If Gwen wasn't such a spaz, things would be okay, but nooo, she was insecure and worried Lemy would leave her for someone better...someone like Leia. And why wouldn't he? Leia wasn't a clingy psycho girlfriend who got insanely jealous when he fucked other girls because she knew he'd come back to her. Again, she was Lemy's first, and nothing could change that; they had a special bond that couldn't be broken by _anyone, _not even Little Miss Gwen.

She wasn't worried about him doing other girls, oh, but Gwen was. A long time ago, Leia felt sorry for her friend, but not anymore. Gwen was just basic. I mean, what is she beyond Lemy's fuck toy? And Leia's friend (when she _was_ Leia's friend)? A sad little rich girl? That's about it, right? The most character development she's really gotten. And that's not saying much. Gwen was a loser. Lizy...she could forgive Lizy because she was a stupid kid and didn't know what she was doing. Loan was...well...Loan, and Loan only cared about herself. Leia could understand that. Snakes bite people. What do you expect? But Gwen...Gwen was her best friend at one point, and now, because of her, she couldn't have Lemy.

And that hurt.

Bad.

Not only because she wanted to have sex with him, but because…

...because she loved him. If it was just about getting laid, she'd go out, find a boy, and bend over for him, but she didn't _want _some random boy - she wasn't Slut!Lyra. She wanted Lemy. She wanted sex with him, but she also wanted him to hold her, kiss her, and worship her. She wanted to be his girlfriend. She wanted to sleep with him at night and wke up with him in the morning. She was fine with sharing..she didn't care if he had sex with the others or even if he loved them...it was stupid Gwen.

Fuck her.

She wished she never introduced her to Lemy.

But she did.

And she shot her own foot off too.

But could she really be blamed for thinking her best friend wouldn't stab her in the back and steal her brother? See, Leia came from a family that _knew _how to share. Gwen came from a drunk. Things were fine before Gwen showed up.

Someone knocked on the door, and Leia sneered. "What?"

The knob turned and Lizy stuck her head in. Leia rolled her eyes. Oh, great, one of the three people in this house she didn't want to see. "What do _you_ want?" she asked.

Without answering, Lizy slipped in and shut the door behind her. She came over, climbed onto the bed, and faced Leia. "We gotta talk."

"I have nothing to talk about with you."

"Yes you do," Lizy said. "You're being mean to Gwen."

"Fuck Gwen."

Lizy's eyes narrowed. "I know why you're mad."

"Because Gwen got in Lemy's ear and told him he couldn't be with me." Leia's lips puckered and a wounded inflection crept into her voice.

"That's not true," Lizy said. "She said she was fine with you being Lemy's girlfriend. Lemy's the one who doesn't want to do it."

Leia crossed her arms. "Because of Gwen."

"Because he doesn't want to hurt her feelings."

"Poor thing."

"It's not her fault. If you talk to Lemy -"

"It _is _her fault," Leia charged. "Do you have any idea what it's like to love someone and not be with them? To ache for someone's touch and not have it? Do you have any idea how crazy it drives me that the one thing I want, I can't have?"

Lizy was quiet a moment. "No...but Lemy does."

That gave Leia pause.

"Remember how mean you used to be to Lemy? Remember all the times you made fun of him for being a virgn and not having sex? Remember how all he wanted was to be included and loved and you picked on him? That really hurt his feelings and made him really sad. He's a kind, loving man and you made him feel like shit for months, Leia. You made him cry and want to kill himself. Now you're getting your payback."

Leia blinked in surprise. Lizy, eyes narrowed, staring at her with a dark intensity that was both shocking and disconcerting. "Gwen didn't do that to him. Gwen didn't tease him and string him along. Gwen didn't make fun of him or call him names or get her sick kicks from making him feel bad about himself. You did. Now you're upset because the same thing's happening to you? You don't deserve him, Leia. You're a snooty, selfish little bitch who thinks her shit doesn't stink. You'd be a terrible girlfriend because you'd take and take and take and never give anything back."

She leaned in, and Leia couldn't help shrinking back. "Lemy's too good for you. Go back to fucking Dad."

With that, she got up and left.

Leia gaped after her...then started to cry.

It was true.

She _did _hurt and make fun of Lemy. When he was at his lowest, needing love and affection far more than she did right now, she kicked and spit on him. She made him feel even worse about himself. She _made _things worse.

Flopping onto the mattress, Leia buried her face in her pillow and wept.

* * *

Loan Loud sat on the edge of her bed with her hands balled in her lap and her gaze downcast. Her mother sat beside her in a similar posture: To any outside observer, they were identical, as though one were a half-hearted reskin of the other - one Sonichu to the other's Sonic, Loan a Lori Loud cosplay with messy hair and a baggy sweater, and Lori an older and more world weary Loan. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree; when it came to the Louds and their many children, that had never been truer.

They had been here, wrapped in uncomfortable silence, for nearly five minutes. Loan stole furtive glances at her mother from the corner of her eye, and something like loss stirred in her chest. If she was brutally honest with herself, it wasn't all Mom's fault. A quick look around the room confirmed that: Clothes and books littered the floor, and empty soda cans and bottles covered every surface. The rancid smell of mold and mildew greeted her every time she came in like a slap to the face, and sometimes she saw with crystal clarity that she really _was _a lazy fucking slob. She tried to clean, but the sheer amount of things in her way daunted her, and when she did tidy up, it always went back to messy before the day was over.

No wonder Mom didn't want her.

Some days, Loan didn't even want herself.

Mom took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

Loan didn't reply.

"It was horrible of me. I just...I worry about you so much, baby, and I know how hard things are for you. I just...I've always tried to push you so you could be better, and feel better, because I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Loan said.

That wasn't a lie. Since she got with Lemy, she _had _been happy. Oh, she still had her problems and things were far from perfect, but for the first time in her left, she felt content.

Mom nodded. "I know you are, and I'm happy for you." She surprised Loan by taking her hand and weaving their fingers together. "It just takes getting used to. I...I just want you to be okay, and I go overboard sometimes."

A wad of emotion welled in Loan's throat and she swallowed around it. "I'm sorry for being a fuck-up," she said. "I'm a shit daughter and I always have been." Tears filled her eyes and her lips quivered pitifully. "I don't blame you for not wanting me."

She broke down, shoulders shaking, and Mom took her in her arms, her own tears beginning to fall. "I love you," she vowed, "I'm so sorry I made you think I didn't." She pressed Loan's head to her breast and ran her fingers soothingly through her hair. "It's my fault."

Loan squeezed her eyes closed and fought for control of herself. Her mind, honed and conditioned by years, yelled at her to pull away, but instead, she clung fiercely to her mother, holding onto her like a little girl to a piece of flotsam in a dark, stormy sea. "I'm sorry," Mom said.

For a long time, mother and daughter cradled one another, their tears drying and the mutual pain in their hearts slowly draining away. "I promise to be better," Lori whispered.

"So do I," Loan said.

"Don't make my mistakes," Lori said, "don't ever let your baby feel the way I let you feel."

"I won't," Loan said.

Lori hugged Loan, and Loan allowed herself to be hugged.

It was funny. Being hugged by her mother felt almost as good as being hugged by Lemy, but in a different way.

She'd have to hug her mom more often…

* * *

Lemy sat back from the desk and ran his fingers through his hair. It was past midnight and he was hauling ass to get this XBox done before bed. Gwen and Lizy were snuggled up together, their breathing slow and regular, Lizy told him that she 'Let Leia have it' earlier. Lemy didn't know what _it _was, but something told him it wasn't pretty. Lizy looked cute and innocent, but inside she was a monster. As the hickeys on his dick proved.

Woot, woot.

That's kind of a fucked up thing to say, but it's true. She's feisty when she wants to be, and call me what you want, but that's hot. I wished she didn't get involved though. I was going to talk to Leia, honest, I just wanted to give her some space. I know she's mad at me for doing what I did and I get it. Gwen says she's fine with Leia joining and, you know... I might just let her. I'll just have to pay extra attention to Gwen so she knows how much I love her. Then again, maybe I won't. Man, I dunno. I'm in way over my head here and I don't even know which way is up anymore. I wonder if Dad ever feels like this. I ought to talk to him. I'm sure he could give me a few pointers.

He leaned over, opened the top desk drawer, and pulled out a baggie of pot. A fat jay sounded really good about now, but he needed to get this XBox finished so he could collect his money on it. Mom and Aunt Lola started a baby registry thing online where you can add items you want, that way everyone around you knows what you need and can pick it up for the baby shower or something. So far, without consulting him and Loan, they added, like, 1000 dollars worth of shit. LOL. Designer diapers. Lola literally put designer diapers on there. I didn't know they even made those. What's next, diaper thongs?

Dropping the baggie onto the desk, he picked up his screwdriver and moved the lamp so that it shone directly into the guts of the machine. He was just starting to lose himself in his work when his phone buzzed next to him. He stopped, picked it up, and swiped his thumb across the screen.

A text.

From Lupa.

_Come here. _

Man, what does she want? I'm busy.

He wavered for a moment, then sat the phone back down. If he hurried, he'd be done in, like, ten or fifteen minutes, whatever she needed him for could wait until then. He went back to work, and a few minutes later, his phone buzzed again.

_Please, Lemy._

A lot of people say that discerning tone from text was difficult, but not for Lemy. Maybe he was a genius, maybe he had a sixth sense, or maybe he was just good at guessing, but he could divine someone's meaning and inflection just fine, and those two words, black on white, communicated raw and earnest need. Lupa never said please and that she used his name...

Whatever she needed him for, it was serious.

Leaving his work for later, he got up, went out into the darkened hall, and made his way to Lupa's door. He paused, considered knocking, and went in.

The space was totally dark save for faint moon rays falling through the far window. Lemy came to a halt. Was she in here? "Lupa?" he asked, and though it was impossible, he imagined his voice echoed.

She didn't reply.

Worried now, he went blindly to the bed and ran his hands over the cover.

Empty.

A sound drew his attention, and he looked up just as the door clicked softly shut, blocking out the little illumination from the hall. Lemy's heartbeat sped up and his hand balled into a fist. Yo, are we being home invaded? Is Jason here?

Something moved in the shadows, and a second later, Lupa emerged, the moon kissing her pale, naked body; Her full but tiny breasts, her flat stomach, the gentle and surprisingly feminine curves of her hips, the dark patch nestled in the V-shaped juncture of her thighs. Lemy's mind blanked, and didn't come back online until she cupped his cheek in her warm hand.

_I can see we're thinkin' bout the same things_

_And I can see your expression when the phone rings_

_We both know there's something happening here_

The moon danced in her dark, troubled eyes and her pursed lips strained at the corners, as though she were straining to keep from crying or laughing. From the ashen set of her features and the shame in her eyes, it was the former.

"W-What are you doing?' he stammered. His eyes went inexorably to her breasts. Maybe because he liked them...or maybe because he couldn't bear to look into her pain filled eyes.

She traced her thumb reverently over his cheekbone, her throat bobbing and tears pooling in her eyes. "I need you," she said.

_Well, there's no sense in dancing round the subject_

_A wound gets worse when it's treated with neglect_

_Don't turn around ,there's nothing here to fear_

She held his gaze, her lips trembling harder. A vision of Gwen flashed through his head and his heart missed a staggering beat. He had seen that same pain and vulnerability many times in her eyes, had laid awake, gutted and cold, thinking of it, hating it, wanting to cast it out like Jesus casting demons from pigs.

Now here it was again...in the last place, he ever expected to find it.

"Lupa…" he started.

She leaned in, their noses brushing like two prospective mates nuzzling each other in pregnant greeting. Her hot breath broke against his lips and her tender eyes glistened with a nakedness that was hard to behold. Lupa was always stoic...always closed...her facade tough and steely but, he supposed, just that, a facade to hide the pink, quivering pulp beyond. She grazed her fingernails over his scalp and moving of their own accord, his hands went to her face, his palms smearing salty tears across her cheeks. Their eyes met, and their fates were sealed.

_You can talk to me_

_Talk to me_

_You can talk to me_

_You can set your secrets free, baby _

Their lips brushed, then, taking the lead because that's what she needed, Lemy kissed his sister deeply. Lupa hesitated, perched on the precarious razor's edge of indecision. They could stop and go back to being brother and sister...or they could keep going, and wind up God only knew where.

She kissed him back.

_Dusty words lying under carpets_

_Seldom heard well must you keep your secrets_

_Locked inside hidden safe from view_

Lupa melted into him and lashed his tongue needily with hers, her hands running down his chest and her nails curling possessively into his shirt. Lemy turned and laid her carefully on the bed, their lips never breaking. Side by side, they kissed faster, more urgently, their hands stroking each other's body. Lupa squeezed Lemy's bulge through his jeans and Lemy tangled his fingers through her pubic hair, his middle finger finding the nub of her arousal and deftly kneading it. Lupa gasped into his mouth and frantically pulled at his belt buckle, needing to be joined to her brother, her soulmate, more than she had ever needed anything.

_Well, is it all that hard_

_Is it all that tough_

_Well, I've shown you all my cards now isn't that enough_

_You can hide your hurt_

_But, there's something you can do_

Lemy mounted his sister, took her hands, and twinned their fingers. In one delicate motion, he eased into her bubbling core and held her arms above her head in a V, stopping only when his tip touched the opening of her womb and her lips touched his. They swirled and lapped each other's tongues, the sweet taste of Lupa's mouth steeping Lemy's senses. Her satiny walls formed tight around his shaft as if to keep him in place, and he began to rock his hips slow and gentle, his body saying to hers _I'm not going anywhere. _

_Though we lay face to face and cheek to cheek_

_Our voices stray from the common ground where they could meet_

_The walls run high, to veil a swelling tear_

Crossing her legs over his butt in an X, Lupa pulled him deeper and threw her head back, her hands crushing his and her back lifting to meet his thrusts. Each time his head mashed against her cervix, a gasp tore from her throat and her heart blasted harder, higher, in her throat, now in her mouth. His pumping shaft filled her completely and pushed her muscles apart just enough that her pelvis pleasantly ached. His lips touched her neck, and when they closed around her hammering pulse, she sucked a deep breath and blurted his name.

_Oh, let the walls burn down, set your secrets free_

_You can break their bounds, cause you're safe with me_

_You can lose your doubt, cause you'll find no danger not here_

He went faster, the headboard slapping the wall and the box spring creaking with shameless abandon. His face hovered inches above hers, and Lupa stared into his loving brown eyes, her heart swelling with boundless, abject, and unconditional love.

_You can talk to me_

_Talk to me_

_You can talk to me_

_You can set your secrets free, baby_

Lupa's stomach clenched and her hold on herself was beginning to unravel. "Lemy," she panted, the word feeling so good on her lips that she had to say it again, "Lemy, Lemy, Lemy," a chat, a mantra, a prayer of devotion. "I'm cumming."

His eyes locked with hers, staring into her and seeing every flaw, every imperfection, every crack, and accepting her anyway. "I love you," he said, and that did it. Her body released and she came so hard that her eyes narrowed and her toes curled. Lemy pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her lips just as he reached his own climax; liquid lead filled Lupa's stomach, and she cried out his name, not caring who heard, hell, hoping _everyone _did.

Gradually, her hips ceased moving, and she came down from her high by degrees. Lemy's face was buried in her neck, his lips on her crazily pounding pulse, and her arms and legs were wrapped around him like a monkey clinging to a tree. Warmth spread through her entire body, and her toes tingled. A giggle bubbled up from her throat and she didn't even care to stop it. "Boy, was _I _missing out."

Lemy chuckled and propped himself up on one hand. "So was I." He cupped her breast and ran his thumb over her stiff nipple. "I didn't know you were so hot under that hoodie."

"Pale and ugly," she corrected.

He bent, rolled his eyes up to her, and licked her nipple, making her jump. "Sexy," he said.

She smiled. She didn't think she was sexy, but looking into Lemy's eyes, she could believe that he did.

Later on, as he held her in his arms just as she had fantasized he would, she swallowed and found her voice. "I've never had it like that."

"I know," Lemy said.

"With Dad it was always just...you know…"

"He deadfished you."

Lupa nodded. "More or less."

"I can understand why he did it," Lemy said. "And I don't hate on him for it, but -"

"It was loveless," she said.

"Passionless," Lemy corrected. "He didn't want to do it, so he had no passion. He did it because he loved you and you needed it." He stopped and thought a minute. "Remember that pheromone thing Lisa mentioned? How it fucked up our sex drives and made us perverts?"

Lupa nodded. "Yeah. I know he did it for me and I appreciate it. It just...it _wasn't _what I needed. _This _is what I needed."

"Not just sex," Lemy said.

She nodded again. "More than just sex."

Later still. "Lem?"

"Yeah?" His voice was thick with sleep.

She licked her lips. She didn't want to ask this...but it was okay with him. She could talk to him. "Can you stay with me tonight?"

He hugged her tightly and kissed the back of her neck. "I'm here," he promised.

Lupa smiled. "Thank you."

After a moment's thought: "I love you."

"I love you too."

And then they slept.

* * *

Lincoln Loud propped his elbow on the table, pressed his palm to his forehead, and let out a deep, shivering breath. "I just don't we'll ever come back from it," he said.

Across from him, Lisa clasped her hands between her knees and considered her reply. "You did what was best at the time, Lincoln," she finally said. "Your daughters needed you and you were there for them. They're getting older now, and their sexual identities are beginning to take a more cohesive shape, meaning that their needs and desires are changing. The opening stages of puberty are the hardest part. Once they're over that, things settle down."

He knew. The pheromone that Lisa accidentally infected him and their sisters with all those years ago altered their DNA and they passed it onto their children. The Loud girls entered puberty far earlier than normal - about five - and their libidos went into overdrive shortly thereafter. Not every one of them was affected the same way. Liena was largely spared and only needed sex on occasion. Lyra...Lyra on the other hand. She, for some reason, had the highest concentration of it, which led to her libido going into fucking warp speed. She didn't have to be mentally aroused to become physically aroused. All she had to do was exist, and her pussy would start leaking. Lisa expected it to ebb away over time, but for now, Lyra was Lyra. Most of the girls were affected by it physically and mentally as well. So was he, Lincoln thought.

On a mental and emotional level, he hated having sex with his daughters but did it so they had a safe and loving partner who wouldn't hurt or take advantage of him. On some corrupted physical level, he enjoyed it. The size difference, you know. Little bodies are tighter.

His gord rose and for a second he thought he was going to puke. That sounded bad. Real bad.

"I just feel like I fucked them up even worse."

Lisa ticked her head side to side. "I wouldn't say that, but it likely did create some unintended side effects. Every cure does. What this family needs is therapy. Give me a little time to devise a strategy and we'll get started, okay?"

She smiled warmly, and Lincoln smiled back. "Alright."

Whatever it took to make his family healthy and whole again.

* * *

**Putting this down here for anyone who doesn't want to read it:**

**I'm not particularly speaking to the guest I just answered, I'm addressing a long standing complaint with this story that he reminded me of. **

**Some people are offended by the way I depict Lincoln in this, some people have it in their heads that I'm out to destroy his character like I have some personal vendetta against him the same way people think I have a vendetta against the characters when I kill them off in horror stories. That's always made me laugh. It's fiction. I'm telling a story here. I'm using characters I enjoy working with. If I didn't like them, I wouldn't kill them off or make them look bad, I just wouldn't use them. Or I'd turn them into a complete clown the way I did with Lyle.**

**Lincoln in this story is dysfunctional. But then again so is Lemy. And Lyra. And Luan. The entire premise is dysfunctional. Everyone and everything in this story is ultimately dysfunctional. Daughter fucking, brother fucking, harems, incest, I mean, come on, if you take a step back and look at the Loud family in the context of this story, they're a fucking train wreck. Every last one of them. Yes, that includes Lincoln. He did what he thought was best for his daughters, so his heart was in the right place at least. He deadfished them, but you know why I did that? Because if I wrote him loving every second of screwing his children, I wouldn't be able to ever like him again (as a character in this story). The fact that I threw that "deadfish" wrench in there wasn't me trying to portray him badly, it was me trying to save him from becoming completely irredeemable. If I hated Lincoln, I'd have him happily slinging his dick to his daughters every second of every day. Remember, I wasn't too hot on daddy-daughter when I started this story (it was more of a plot device than a fetish, which is why I don't think I ever graphically depicted it) but halfway through, I decided I hated it. If I hated Lincoln, would I have tried to pull back? Would I have had him stop what he was doing? **

**Some people in this fandom get really weird with these characters, be they the canon characters or the OCs. They get too attached and they take any criticism of the character or any negative depiction as a personal attack. I try so hard to be as respectful of this entire fandom as I can because this fandom has given me so much over the past three years and I do appreciate it, but after seeing certain things for so long I just have to be honest. That over attachment shit to cartoon characters isn't healthy and it leads to a lot of unnecessary strife in the fandom.**

**One of my favorite characters is Lynn. I've never hesitated to turn her into a bad guy if the story I have in mind required it. Look at Night of the Bimbo Sisters (if you've read it). It made logical sense for her to be violent and aggressive. **

**Look, I hate the sin kid Lyle. I used him as a joke in here twice. I didn't give him a shit ton of screen time and at least attempt to turn him into a complex character with good and bad qualities (like a real human being). **

**But I did with Lincoln. Any character I use, I do it because I like them and I feel like I have a role for them to play (and play well). If I hated them, I wouldn't bother. **


	21. All Out

**This is basically the final chapter. All that's left is the epilogue.**

* * *

**Lyrics to _Celebration _by Kool and the Gang (1980); _Animal (Fuck Like a Beast) _by W.A.S.P. (1984)**

"You really shouldn't worry about it," Lizy said serenely.

Gwen sighed. "I know, but I do anyway."

It was early morning and they were sitting in the middle of Lemy's bed, Gwen on her knees and Lizy with her legs crossed. The little girl was clad in a red T-shirt and pink panties and Gwen wore one of Lemy's shirts: Black with KROKUS across the chest in yellow, it smelled like him and brought her a measure of comfort.

"Well...if it'll make you feel better, go talk to Aunt Lisa. And if there is something wrong, she can fix it. She's the smartest person ever, you know."

Gwen flashed a wan smile at Lizy's childlike confidence in her aunt's ability to fix barren wombs. It quickly ran away from her face and left her frowning. Lemy was open and honest with her. As soon as she was awake and as ready to hear the news as she would ever be, he told her about what he and Lupa did the night before. If she was upset, she got over it as he told her about the pain in his sister's eyes. One of the reasons Gwen loved him so much was how caring he was. He had gone through a lot of heartaches himself and he did everything in his power to make sure none of his sisters, or Gwen herself, felt the same way.

That was his best trait.

She assured him she was fine with it, and in all honesty, she was. She trusted him.

Having faith in him wasn't easy - she couldn't trust her own mother, and if you can't trust the woman who gave birth to you, who _can _you trust? - but he had earned it. He might screw up here and there, but he never did anything intentionally to hurt her, so how could she be upset with him?

She couldn't, but there was that nagging fear in the back of her head that she would never be able to have his children. Loan woud, Lupa would, Lizy one day would, but what about her? She had been thinking hard on that topic since that morning, and panic was beginning to set in. No words of wisdom or logic would sway her; she needed to know and she needed to know now.

"What if she can't?" she asked. "What if I can never have kids?"

Lizy scrunched her lips. "Oh, I know, you have one of mine."

A laugh was shocked from Gwen. "I don't think it works like that."

"Sure it does. Like, Lisa can use your DNA and put it inside of me, so it'll be yours and Lemy's baby, I just carry it."

Hm. _Could _she do that? Lisa was a wizard, but she wasn't God, and there were many things she couldn't do.

Either way, Lizy's offer touched her. Gwen saw a lot of Lemy in her and that was probably why she had come to love the little girl so much. "Thanks, but...I want to do it the old fashioned way."

"Then go talk to Lisa. You never know until you ask."

That was true.

Her stomach rumbled. "I'm hungry. You want something to eat?"

Downstairs, Liena and Lacy sat on the couch and watched _AEW_, where a 75 year old Kurt Angle challenged a 70 year old Chris Jericho for the Senior Citzen's Heavyweight title in a WCB match - wheelchairs, crutches, and bedpans. In the kitchen, Luan and Lynn sat at the table and paged through a magazine over coffee. "I like this one," Lynn said.

"Hmmm, I dunno, this one's cute too."

Lynn snorted. "That one's trash."

"No it's not," Luan retorted.

Gwen made her and Lizy both a bowl of cereal and carried them out into the dining room. They sat across from each other and ate in silence. At least, Gwen was silent. Lizy was right about needing to just get it over with and talk to Lisa, but she was afraid to; right now, she had the benefit of the doubt on her side, but if Lisa found something wrong, she wouldn't.

Sitting here and worrying herself sick over it wasn't going to help anything, though With every moment that slipped past, the ball of dread in her stomach knotted a little tighter, became a little bigger. At this rate, she'd be nothing but anxiety in a week's time, maybe less.

Looking down into her cereal, she made her decision. "I'm gonna go talk to Lisa," she said and stood.

"Okay," Lizy chirped, "want me to save your breakfast?"

Gwen crinkled her nose. "Nah, it'll be soggy by the time I come back. You can have it."

The little girl's face lit up. "Thanks!"

Putting her head down in case she passed Leia, Gwen went upstairs, then climbed the steps to the third floor. At the door to Lisa's lab, she knocked, and froze when it swung creakily open. Music drifted out and Gwen stuck her head in. "Lisa?"

No reply.

She hesitated, then slipped in.

_There's a party goin' on right here_

_A celebration to last throughout the years_

_So bring your good times and your laughter too_

_We gonna celebrate your party with you_

Lisa's desk stood abandoned, its surface neat and tidy save for a sheaf of papers fanned out across it like a hand of cards. The desk lamp was twisted to shine directly on them, putting Gwen in mind of museum artifacts on display. Lisa's parrot (what was his name?) shuffled from side to side on his post. At first, Gwen thought he was dancing to the music, then he spoke. "Squawk, I hate this shit, turn it off, squawk, my ears, my ears."

_It's time to come together_

_It's up to you, what's your pleasure?_

_Everyone around the world come on!_

"Squawk, press the OFF button, it's not that hard, retard, squawk."

The radio sat on the desk, shoved back against the wall to make room. Gwen went over, bent, and turned it off. She started to turn, but her eyes fell on the papers and a word caught her attention.

STERILIZATION.

Frowning, she picked one up and read it, her eyes widening as understanding dawned on her.

_...how it could have occured. There are several possibilities, but until I have the time to investigate them more fully, I have increased the amount of the sterilizing agent in the water supply. That should suffice for now…_

"Squawk, I'll tell Lisa you were spying unless you blow me, squawk."

Gwen sat the paper down, her head buzzing with this new information.

"Squawk, just the head, I know you like sucking cock, tramp, squawk." The bird thrusted his hips obscenely back and forth.

Glaring, Gwen leaned over and turned the radio back on.

_Celebrate good times, come on!_

_(It's a celebration)_

_Celebrate good times, come on!_

_(Let's celebrate)_

"Noooooooo," the parrot wailed.

Gwen smirked, then walked away.

"Squawk, come back, please, squawk!"

In the hall, Gwen pulled the door closed behind her.

She knew where she had to go next.

And what she had to do.

She went down the steps and started down the hall, but froze when a voice called out her name.

It sounded like…

"Gwen?"

She turned, and past her open door, Leia sat in the middle of her bed. Gwen's hackles raised and her heart started to race, but there were no traces of anger on her former friend's face. Indeed, there was a certain rawness in her eyes that made her think of the way Lemy described Lupa. "Come here."

Should she? What if it was a trap? What if Leia was baiting her into a fight?

"Please?"

She hesitated a moment more, then sighed and went into the room.

* * *

_Slut. Slut. Slut. _

That hateful fucking word plagued Lyra Loud endlessly. Every time she got girl-hard, every time she smacked her lips and called up the memory of dick-taste, every time she saw a hot guy on TV and thought _Yeah, I'd lick him from head to toe_. Ugh, why do people have to be so judgemental? So what, she liked sex, big deal, the very same people who call her a slut like sex too, and if they weren't fat and repulsive, they'd have it just as much as she did.

Jealous. They were just jealous.

Even so, she did recognize that she had to rein it in. She banished kinky thoughts from her mind, resolved to sleep only with Lemy, and to find a man she could be with, and maybe one day marry. She had been scouring online dating sites for well over a week, and somehow, every date she went on ended with her ankles behind her ears. She specifically went out with a Mormon guy so that wouldn't happen, but at the end of the night, he was balls deep in her butt because anal wasn't a sin. If her brief time as a Christian taught her anything, it was that if it feels good, it's a sin; she didn't know about him, but it sure as fuck was a sin for her.

Those encounters left her feeling like shit about herself and promising to do better. She wasn't a slut, she'd show them, she'd show _all _of them.

Only the burning desire kept coming back, and no amount of cold showers or shota hunting her little brother would quell them.

That Saturday afternoon, her passion drove her from the house and to the park. Walking was a good distraction and as long as she kept moving, she could ignore the incessant pinching in her loins. Being a warm and sunny day, the place was filled with people, mainly kids, but also shirtless, hunky guys playing Frizebee. Lyra stopped to watch them and in moments flat, she was biting her bottom lip and pressing her knees together. Ahhh, stop being so fucking sexy.

Getting control of herself, she left and wandered aimlessly through the surrounding neighborhoods. _Don't be a slut, don't be a slut, don't be a slut. _She was better than this. She was Lyra Loud, she could do anything she set her mind to. Didn't she just literally change her entire belief system because some old people in a church were nice to her? Didn't her being an insufferable Christian caricature lead her father and sisters to change their ways?

Does a hot load taste good?

If she could do all of that, she could do this no problem. She just had to keep her legs clamped shut and her tongue to herself. Soon, the fire in her pants would grow cold and she could get back to being the Lyra everyone knew and loved: The one that spouts Bible quotes and exists only to be the straight man to her siblings' comic foils.

LAMO, no, she wasn't going to be _that _ever again, but she also wasn't going to be a ho.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't realize her feet had carried her to the high school until a whistle blew and woke her from her reprieve. A chain link fence bordered the sidewalk, and beyond, a group of football players in thick pads and helmets ran drills while their coach barked orders from the sidelines. Lyra stopped and curled her fingers through the mesh. One guy jumped up, caught the ball, and started to run, but everyone else tackled him. They scrambled on top of him in a sweaty, dirty mass of manliness and Lyra's heart raced. What a lucky guy. God, she wished that was her.

Her eyes went to the bleachers flanking the field, and an idea came to her. What better way to get her mind off that...thing...between her legs than by watching some wholesome football? Heh, it was the perfect plan.

She followed the fence to a gate, then slipped through and climbed into the bleachers, where she sat high above the action. The players broke into teams and chased each other across the turf, and Lyra grinned to herself.

Yep, football sure is cool.

There was only one problem.

She couldn't see very well.

Getting up, she picked her way down the bleachers and parked her butt on the first bench. Now she was so close to the game she could smell the tang of their sweat and see the big, juicy bulges in their pants. She let out a contented sigh and twirled a strand of chestnut hair around her finger. Best sport ever.

After an hour, the game ended 4-1 and the players broke from formation. They went over to the side and started getting their things. Lyra saw her chance, got up, and walked over. "Hey," she said, and they all looked up at her. "Good game."

_I start to howl I'm in heat_

_I moan and growl and the hunt drives me crazy_

_I fuck like a beast_

Lyra wrapped her legs around the tight end's hips and jumped when he thrusted into her. He pushed her back against the shower wall and drilled her while his buddies stood around, watching, their steam wrapped bodies naked and glistening. She threw her head back and yelped when he nipped her neck. Fifteen sets of eyes worshipped her nude body, and fifteen cocks stood at attention, waiting for their turn in Lyra's wicked garden.

_I come round, round I come feel your love_

_Tie you down, down I come steal your love_

The linebacker, 6 foot tall and 250 pounds if he was an ounce, bent Lyra over and jammed his dick into her cunny. The fullback and the safety stood on either side of her, their fat cocks in her hands, and the wide receiver stood in front of her, his meat caressing her lips. She licked his head, then took him deep into her mouth. He and the linebacker thrusted in unison, batting her back and forth like a hot, wet, fleshy shuttlecock. The wide receiver tugged handfuls of her hair and filled her mouth with hot cum, and Lyra drank every drop like the manna it was. He pulled out and someone else took his place. "Say cheese," someone said. She looked up; a black guy (the quarterback) was filming on his phone. Lyra smiled, her lips and chin dripping with cum.

"Cheese."

_I come round, round I come feel your love_

_Tie you down, down I come steal your love_

The nickelback laid her down on the wet shower floor and thrusted into her, spreading her walls and pushing her pelvic muscles painfully apart. Hot water beat down on her face and obscure her vision; the flavor of a dozen different chodes mingled in her mouth and her slick body was a patchwork of handprints, hickies, and bite marks. He braced his hands on either side of her head and rutted her like a beast; her eyes rolled back into her head and a look of bliss settled over her features.

Was this heaven?

Cuz it sure felt like it.

_I'm on the prowl and I watch you closely_

_I lie waiting for you_

_Well I'm the wolf with the sheepskins clothing_

The running back, forced her legs apart, and jerked into her pussy. Meanwhile, she polished the center's dick with her mouth and jacked the punter and the kicker. Lyra moaned and thrilled at the feeling of the punter's hot jizz dribbling down her hand. The kicker followed moments later, his thick juice getting in her hair and on her shoulder. The center filled her mouth, and smiling to herself, she gurgled it like mouthwash.

_I lick my chops and your tasting good_

_I do whatever I want to do, yeah_

_I'll nail your ass to the sheets_

Lyra got her knees under her and stuck her ass in the air, wiggling it back and forth for whoever wanted it. Someone gripped her hips and slid into her, plugging her thirsty little hole and making her breasts bounce. "God, fuck me faster," she rejoiced.

_A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya_

"What the hell is going on in here?"

The coach stood in the doorway leading out to the locker room, his hands on his hips and a hard glower on his face. Thick gray hair covered his muscular arms and tufts stuck out from the collar of his polo shirt. Lyra, weak, shaky, and oozing cum from every orifice, slunk to him like a puma in heat, a sinful little smirk on her lips. She knelt in front of him and pawed at his gym shorts. A look of horror crossed his face. "Knock that off, I'm married."

He made no move to stop her as she pulled his dick out and lifted up on her knees. "I don't care," she said and started to bob her head.

_I fuck like a beast_

Lyra knelt in a circle of fifteen, twenty, twenty five men, her body battered, bruised, and wet with water and cum, both hers and theirs. They all stroked their dicks and Lyra opened her mouth to catch their loads. Some landed on her tongue, others splattered her tits, her back, sluicing into her butt crack, her stomach, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her hair. She tilted her head back and threw her arms out like that dude in _The Shawshank Redemption _when he escapes prison and feels rain for the first time.

Dicks, dicks, glorious dicks everywhere.

This _was _heaven, and she never wanted to leave.

_I come round, round I come feel your love_

_Tie you down, down I come steal your love _

Lyra shuffled out of the locker room like a little old woman. Her ass was sore, her pussy was sore, and every muscle in her body ached. With every step, the rough material of her jeans chafed her pussy and her shirt scoured her nipples.

She stopped to rest, then lumbered out onto the field.

In other words: She felt awesome.

Yeah, she liked sex, and if that made her a slut, then she was a slut.

Seethe harder.

Incel.

* * *

Leia and Gwen faced each other, both on their knees like Lyra was across town. Leia stared down at the bed and Gwen waited for her to say something, the suspense in her chest growing until it threatened to overwhelm her. Finally, Leia sighed. "I'm sorry for being a bitch. I'm just…" she trailed off and collected her thoughts.

"Look, Leia, I -"

"Just...let me finish.'

Gwen fell silent.

For a long time, Leia didn't speak again, and when she did, it was in an earnest tone that Gwen didn't think she'd ever heard from her before. "I'm in love with him," she admitted. "I was his first and I...I just love him, okay? He makes me feel -"

"Like you're the only girl in the world?" Gwen supplied. "Like you're special and beautiful and you're his everything?"

Leia nodded. "Yes," she said, "just like that." A wistful smile spread across her lips and she looked up at the ceiling. "He makes me feel good. When he told me what you said -"

"Leia…"

"It crushed me." She blinked her eyes and fixed her gaze on Gwen. "It didn't make me mad or jealous, it hurt me. Then I realized...I really don't deserve him."

She lowered her head in contrition.

"Leia -"

"I was shit to him for a long time," Leia went on. "The kindest, sweetest, most caring boy in the world...and I fucking abused him. I don't deserve him. I want him -" here she laughed humorlessly " - but I shouldn't have him. You, on the other hand...you've always loved him and been there for him when he needed you."

Gwen swallowed around a lump of emotion in her throat. "Leia, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for...I was just...I was scared, okay? I was afraid he was going to stop loving me when he has all of you. But...that's not Lemy. He has so much love and kindness in his heart. I was wrong to not trust him. And that's my fault for being weird."

"No, it's really not," Leia said. "We're Louds, we have our cake and eat it too. That takes time to get used to."

They both giggled.

"Friends?" Leia asked.

Gwen smiled. "Friends."

They hugged.

"Now about Lemy," Leia said.

"I have an idea," Gwen said, forestalling her. "First...there's something I need to do."

"What?" Leia asked.

Gwen told her everything, starting with wanting Lemy's baby and ending with the papes she found in Lisa's lab. Leia listened, then scrunched her lips. "Hm. Interesting. I always wondered why no one got pregnant around here. Let's check it out."

Together, Leia and Gwen went downstairs and into the basement. A long set of rickety wooden stairs led into a pit of dust-choked shadows, and the smell of earth and mold pinched Gwen's nose. Leia reached up and yanked the pull cord, filling the space with muted light. "Come on," she said.

Neither one knew where the water tank was, so at the foot of the stairs, they split up, Gwen going left and Leia going right. Gwen checked under the stairs, next to the washer, and beneath the toolbench. "Gwen!"

Getting to her feet, Gwen rushed over and found Leia standing in front of a six foot tall machine that looked like a refrigerator. Valves and knobs covered its surface and pipes connected to it from the wall. The big blue water drop painted on the front was a dead giveaway.

They found their mark.

"Is this it?" Leia asked and jutted her chin at a black box on the wall. Gwen brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned in. BC UNIT, KEEP AWAY - LISA was printed on the face in white.

"I think so," Gwen said. "Now we turn it off, wait a while, and let Lemy get me pregnant. When we're done, we turn it back on." She wouldn't trick him into getting her pregnant, of course. She would be honest and up front and talk him into it. He would give her a baby, of that she was sure.

She examined the box closely. "Now how do we…?"

Her words trailed off. "Huh."

"What?" Leia asked.

Gwen stepped aside. On the top, near a set of buttons, were two lights. One red and the other presumably green.

The red one was lit.

"It's already off."

Leia's brow furrowed. "Huh."

"Right?" Gwen asked.

"I wonder who did it," Leia mused.

* * *

Lemy stopped at the door and knocked, then glanced at his phone to reread the text.

"Come in!"

He turned the knob, went inside, and closed the door behind him. "You wanted to see me, Aunt -?"

The words died on Lemy's lips.

Leni, clad in black negligee, stood at the foot of her bed, one hand on her cocked hip and a mischievous, closed-lipped on her face. Her long blonde hair spilled over her shoulders like silk and her eyes were lightly shadowed. Her sensuous pink lips sparkled in the overhead light and her smile widened at his shock. "Hey, Lemy," she sang.

Oldest trick in the book. Text me, get me alone, pounce me. Lupa did it last night and...actually, idk if anyone else has, but still, I should have seen this coming.

Lemy smiled nervously.

What happened with Lupa was an aberration. Or so he told himself. He wanted to be loyal to his girls, especially Gwen, but what could he say, he was weak. Gwen said it was alright but...I dunno, I still felt like shit about it. Every time I turn around, I'm dicking someone else. I guess I'm too much like Dad.

"Hey," he said, "what, uh, what's up?"

Leni came to him and trailed her finger down his chest. "I need your help," she said. Her smell, sweet and clean like summer rain, tantalize his senses, and he felt his dick beginning to respond in spite of himself.

"With what?" he asked.

She bent and the tips of their noses touched. Her eyes, wide and innocent, stared into his, and her lips curled up at the corners. "I want another baby," she said in a breathy whisper, "and Lincy can't have anymore. But you…" she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled his body flush with hers. Lemy's throat closed and his heartbeat sped up. "You can."

No, Lemy, be strong, please, Gwen needs you…

Leni sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and brushed her teeth over it, the wicked light in her eyes flickering like the fires of hell.

...make it up to her. You can just make it up to her, bro.

Taking Leni's face in his hands, he molded his lips to hers and swept his tongue into her mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him backwards to the bed. She sat, and he knelt over her lap, his knees on either side of her legs. She laid back and pulled him with her, her thighs spreading. Lemy paused, unzipped his pants, and took his dick out. Leni watched him, panting, and smiled when she saw his prick. "Ummm...hi, Lemy," she purred,

A little voice in the back of Lemy's head yelled at him to stop. One kid on the way is enough, bro, don't dig yourself deeper.

His brain sent the HALT command to his body, but somewhere along the way, it became garbled and instead of stopping, he went full steam ahead, penetrating his aunt and knocking a shocked gasp from her lips. She propped her legs up in an M, and Lemy hooked his arm under one of them. She pulled it away and rested her ankles on his shoulders. Now he looked like the dude in that meme. _When her son walks in on you smashing and you gotta tell him he can grab your phone and play games on it. "It's right over there, lil buddy." _

"Do you, like, think you're man enough to put a baby in me?" Leni asked playfully.

Lemy jerked his hips forward and sank himself to the hilt. Her eyes crossed and a shiver went through her frame. "Is that man enough for you?"

She caught her breath and locked her eyes with his. "Not yet."

Leaning over, her splayed his hands on either side of her head and set a quick, rough pace, fucking her hard and fast, the way he fucked Lynn when she teased him. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she nibbled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Without warning, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt, flung him off, and climbed on top of him. She aligned their sexes, then sank onto him with a shivering sigh. She brushed her hair out of her flushed face, flattened her palms on his chest, and favored him with an evil little smile. She lifted herself a little, then brought her hips down, sheathing him. Lemy stared up at her breasts; they quivered and shook beneath black lace, and Lemy licked his lips. Leni leaned over, laid her hands on the backs of his, and guided them to her chest. "You can touch them, you know," she whispered.

He squeezed and massaged them, and she smiled. "Like, good boy." She rose up and began to rock her hips. Lemy played with her tits and enjoyed the view as Leni worked herself into a blushing, sweating frenzy. Her eyelids rippled, her lips sparkled, and her nostrils flared. Her damp walls throttled his dick, desperate for his life-giving load, and after a while, he had no choice but to let her have it. She pressed his hands to her breasts, tossed her head back, and gave a long, trembling yelp.

When it was over, she climbed off and lay next to him, her thighs clamped shut to keep him from dribbling out. "Now we wait and see." She turned, pecked him on the cheek, and patted his chest. "Thank you, Lemy."

"Glad to help."

Later, after Leni kicked him out (_I like, hate to fuck and run, but I have stuff to do_), Lemy took a long, hot shower. Dude, did I really do that? I already have one girl pregnant, I don't need two. It's different with her, though. I mean, she's a grown up with a job and a savings account, at least.

That's really not saying much, but...fuck it. I'm not normal and neither is my family, I better get used to that now while I'm still relatively young.

Cutting the water, he got out, dried off, and dressed. In his room, he sat at the desk and picked up his screwdriver. Alright, now to finish off this -

The door opened behind him.

Ugh, what now?

He turned in his seat and tensed.

Gwen and Leia came into the room, Gwen closing and locking the door behind her. His eyes darted from her to Leia and back again. Uh, I've never seen a murder irl, but I'm pretty sure a lot of them start like this.

Leia came over and knelt on the floor in front of him. "Lemy," she said, "I love you."

It took him a second to get his bearings. "Huh?"

She took a deep breath. "I love you. Like...I'm in love with you and I want to be with you."

Oh.

OH.

He looked at Gwen, and she smiled. "Look, Leia, I -"

"I know," Leia said, "and I respect that. I also know I don't deserve you." She lowered her eyes to the floor and that one gesture of penitence and submission struck him like a slap to the face. "I was a huge bitch to you and I treated you really cruelly. I'm sorry. I am, Lemy, and...I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Lemy didn't know how to reply. He told her he couldn't be with her because of Gwen, but what did he say to Lupa? And Leni?"

Not that.

He fucked them. He fucked both of them. The cat was out of the bag so...what reason did he have anymore?

"Leia," he said, "look, it's fine, I -"

"No, it's not, you're a sweet, caring, loving man who always does what's right. I hurt you and I'm sorry." She reached out and laid her hand on his crotch. "Let me make it up to you."

She lifted up on her knees, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled out his dick, already hard despite just being drained minutes ago. She curled her fingers around the shaft, brought the tip to her lips, and placed a loving kiss on top. "I love you, Lemy," she said. She kissed it again, then licked it, making him shiver. "I love you with all my heart and I want to be with you. Please?" She took him into her mouth and went down slowly, her tongue expertly stroking him and her sizzling spit swishing around his head. She took him to the back of his throat and swirled her head around.

Lemy swallowed thickly and regulated his breathing. Gwen laid her hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Can she be in our harem, freak?" she asked. "Please?"

Leia dipped her hand between her thighs and rubbed herself through her panties. She pulled back to the tip, then surged down again, back, again, back, again, getting faster every time. Lemy turned his head and his nose touched Gwen's.

"Can she?" Gwen asked huskily.

"Yes," he said and kissed her.

In the heat of passion, things happened. Leia gave up her spot to Gwen, who swung her legs over Lemy and shifted onto her lap, and Lemy tasted his own precum on Leia's tongue. She grazed her nails tenderly over his scalp and gazed into his eyes, her breath dank and smelling of dick. "I love you," she said and pecked his cheek. "I love you." His lips. "I love you."

Gwen laid her hands on his shoulders and sank onto him much the same way Leni had. He closed his arms around her and held her close, lifting his hips to meet her downward thrusts. At some point, they moved to the bed, Leia and Gwen both on their knees with their butts stuck into the air. Lemy thrusted into one, then the other, back and forth, their fluids mingling freely. Gwen and Leia held hands and came moments apart, both panting and gasping for breath. Lemy finished in Gwen, then moved on to Leia, his dick instantly hard because he was a Loud and therefore a sexual superhero.

Leia pressed her cheek to the mattress and threw herself back into him, going faster and faster until she came unraveled again. Lemy leaned over, planted his hands on the bed, and slammed deep into her, finally cumming with a soft moan.

Afterward, they lay in a row, Gwen and Leia flanking and Lemy in the middle.

Dude...alright, Imma say it, I am the luckiest motherfucker alive.

And you know what?

For all the stresses in my life…

...I wouldn't trade it for the world.


	22. It Is Finished

**Lyrics to **_**It's a Long Way to the Top **_**by Paganini (1987)**

On a warm spring afternoon, Lemy Loud stood alone in his bedroom. He reached behind his head, untied his bandanna, and looked at it. Sweat soaked and sun beaten, it looked like shit. Plus, the cowskull design on the front...it was cool when he was ten, but now that he was three weeks from turning fourteen...it was kinda gay.

This bandanna meant a lot to him. His mother gave it to him a long time ago and he cherished it. But...and maybe he was weird...it symbolized the old Lemy to him, the Lemy who was sad, mopey, and cucked, the Lemy who only existed as a punchline, the Lemy who was endlessly and unfavorably compared to his father.

A lot had changed in the past year, and you know what?

That Lemy was dead and a new Lemy had taken his place, a better Lemy, a Lemy who was happier, more well-rounded, and not the pariah of his family. Things were different now, and the bandanna...the bandana had to go.

He opened the top drawer, sat the bandanna in, and closed it.

Nothing exists in stasis. Change comes along whether you want it to or not. You can shove your head in the sand and hold onto filaments of the past, but sooner or later, every character develops, every setting changes, and every story reaches its end. There are a lot of people out there who resist change. They fear it. They fight against it. They want things to stay the same forever. They impede progress and stand in the way of advancement. Those people are sad, frightened little creatures who can't adapt.

Lemy was not one of them.

He embraced change.

Change was good.

And so was diversity. He had the best of all worlds with Gwen, Loan, Leia, Lupa, and Lizy. Some people want the same thing every day, day after day, for years, but not him. Maybe I'm not made for monogamy. Maybe I'm schizophrenic. Maybe I'm a weirdo for not liking one thing and one thing only. My tastes are eclectic, what can I say? I like horror and romance; rain and sun; hard and soft; fast and slow. I'm a walking contradiction and I'm okay with that.

You have to accept who you are and go from there.

And I am Lemy Loud, a sister-fucking, radio-fxing, rock-loving GOD.

LMAO XD

Downstairs, he dropped onto the couch next to his father. There was none of the tension that had marked their relationship before, none of the quiet resentment or muted disgust. It took Lemy a while but he chilled out and accepted his father just as he had accepted himself. Like him, Dad was kind of a mess, but in a good way. "Hey, Dad," he said, "what'cha watching?"

"I dunno, some movie," Dad said and yawned. "What are you up to?"

"Me and the girls are going to the park. You wanna come with?"

Dad thought for a minute. "I'm gonna have to pass. Lori's been riding my ass about taking her out. Hey...where would you go if you really wanted to show one of your girls you loved them?"

"Downtown," Lemy said.

He and Dad both laughed. "Well, duh, I'm gonna go down on her later, but I mean to eat."

I can keep this going, but he's my old man, I'll let him off the hook. "There's that new German-Chinese place on Rosemont."

Dad's face lit up. "Hey, I forgot about that place. Is it good?"

"I dunno, I haven't been. I hear it's supposed to be, like, three stars."

Dad winced. "Oooh, that's expensive."

Hmmm. "There's not much else."

"I'll think of something," Dad said.

While they were talking, Leia, Gwen, and Lupa had come in and stood in front of them. 'Hey," Dad said. "You guys going to the park?"

Gwen, beaming, held something out to Lemy. He leaned forward…

...and froze.

A positive pregnancy test.

Dad's brows shot up and Lemy's head spun.

Leia, smiling devilishly, pulled out her own pregnancy test. "Me too," she said.

Lupa held something out.

A lit cigarette.

"Whoops."

She held something else out.

Aw, Jesus, it was positive too.

Lemy opened his mouth, but no words would come. Hell, no _thoughts _came either. Have you ever seen old test footage of nuclear bomb blasts? The ones where the force of the explosion literally blows _everything _away, even the topsoil?

That was Lemy.

Dad's mouth fell open and then he snapped it closed again. "Well," he said, "looks like we have, uh, four -"

Upstairs, Leni squeed. "I'M PREGNANT!"

"- Five babies on, uh, on the way." He flashed a nervous smile.

"Make that six."

Lyra stood in the threshold to the dining room, her head down. "And Lemy's not the father."

Dad blinked. "Who is?"

"I don't know…"

For a moment, Dad just stared at her, then he laughed so hard tears rolled down his eyes. "Oh, my God. This is ridiculous." He massaged his temples and looked at Lemy.

Five kids.

_Five kids_.

"I'm never gonna financially recover from this," he muttered.

Lemy's harem, minus Loan and Lizy, mobbed him and swept him into a big group hug. As bowled over as he was, he was happy too.

Five kids.

Wow.

Just…

Wow.

He looked at the fourth wall. "You know, my life started off as BS, but now...it's, well, still BS. Bitchin' Success" He pumped his fist and sneered like Billy Idol.

Freeze frame.

_It's a long way to the top_

_It's a long way to the top_

Still freeze frame.

_I've been up I've been down I've being kicked and pushed around_

_I've seen heaven I've seen hell I've been rocking since my ass was ten_

Fade to black.

_Been out in Hollywood, Tokyo, heard my music on the radio_

_Been locked up out in the streets with a bunch of people just like me_

**A selection of scenes play, each depicting future events.**

Lincoln sits in a straight back kitchen chair with his head down and his forearms resting on his knees. Tears stand in his eyes. "It was the worst thing I could have done, but I didn't know what else _to _do. Your hormones were going crazy and...and you needed me. I was stupid enough, though, to not realize that sometimes, the hardest thing to do is the right thing."

His daughters sit around him in a big circle. Lisa, in a chair of her own, jots something down onto a clipboard.

"I hurt you girls more than I helped you," he says, beginning to cry in earnest, "and I'm sorry."

They all look at each other, then down at their laps, shame in their eyes because they knew that they weren't innocent either. It takes two to tango and if their relationship with their father had suffered, they were partly to blame.

Lyra was the first to get up, walk over, and hug him. Lupa was the second, Soon, they all crowded around and shared a big, tearful group hug. It wouldn't be easy getting back on track, but they were all determined.

They would.

And eventually, they _did._

_Hey hey hey don't come easy hey hey hey_

_It's a long way to the top_

_It's a long way to the top_

_It's a long way to the top_

_It's a long way..._

Lemy stands at Loan's bedside as she gives birth. Her feet are in metal stirrups and she pants for air. Lori and Lincoln stand proudly on the other side, Lincoln with his arm around Lori's shoulders. Loan winces in pain and crushes Lemy's hand, making him scream. "You are never touching me again," she hisses through her teeth.

Lori smiled and turned to Lincoln. "I remember telling you the same thing."

The baby is born four hours later, a little girl, because of course it was a girl. Lemy held her in his arms and cried like a little bitch.

They named her Lora.

_Mama can't help, daddy don't care, friends are gone when it's tough out there_

Gwen sits on the couch and plays a happy game of peekaboo with a little brown haired boy about one. Every time she removes her hands from her face, he laughs. Leia comes in holding a little girl with a single tuft of blonde hair in the middle of her head. "Where's Lyra?" she asks.

"Upstairs," Gwen says, then goes back to her game. "Where's Gavin?" she coos. "Where did he go?"

Leia goes upstairs and opens the door to Lyra's bedroom. Lyra lays face down on the bed, snoring, while her octuplets - all eight of them - dance, jump, and run around the room.

Yeah, no. Nevermind.

Leia closes the door and leaves.

_Got knocked down, got back up, ain't nobody gonna make me stop_

Leni sits down on the edge of her bed with a tube of lipstick in her hand and applies it to someone offscreen. "Hold still," she says, "you'll look totes pretty when I'm done." She plasters her tongue to her upper lip in determination, then sits back. "You are adorable."

The camera pans back to reveal a boy about eight sitting on a chair, his hands in his lap. He has long blonde hair and luscious eyelashes and is dressed in a flowing purple shirt, hot pants, and flip flops. He looks at himself in the mirror and smiles. "I am," he lisps appreciatively.

"That's mommy's little Lyle," Leni says and pinches his cheek.

"Do you think Daddy will fuck me now?"

Leni grimaces. "Uh...I don't think Lemy…"

A look of bitter disappointment crosses Lyle's face.

"Maybe," Leni lies.

_I got drunk, I got high, messed around with girls who were not mine_

Lincln, older and sporting a mustache, reclines in his armchair, asleep. A giant group of kids, boys, girls, and Lyle, cluster around him, the smaller ones climbing on him and giggling with glee. He opens one eye, smiles, and closes it again. "Wake up, Grandpa," a little girl who looks like Lizy says.

"Grandpa's asleep," he says.

The little girl's eyes widen, and she turns around to sush her siblings. "Shhh, guys, Grandpa's asleep."

_I've been hurt deep inside, I am a rebel and I pay the price_

Lemy, with short hair and wearing gray overalls, sits on the couch next to his father. Lemy is roughly thirty and Lincoln is roughly fifty-five. "Remember when I was a kid," Lemy said, "and I didn't have fifteen children?"

"Yeah," Lincoln.

"I really wish I spent more time sleeping back then instead of crying about my life."

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah. Me too."

In seconds, both are asleep and snoring.

_Hey hey hey don't come easy hey hey hey_

_It's a long way to the top_

A wispy teenage girl with brown hair and a boy with a brown bowl cut stand outside a closed door, looking worried. "I think it's a ghost," the girl says.

"I dunno, I think someone's dying," the boy says.

A moan drifts out, and they exchange a glance. The girl, a little braver than her brother, opens the door and sticks her head in, then closes it and flutters her hand to her chest. "Whew."

"What is it?" the boy asks.

"Just Mom and Aunt Lizy having sex again."

"Oh," the boy says.

An awkward silence passes. "Wanna 69?" the boy asks.

The girl reaches under her dress and wiggles out of her panties. "Let's go."

_It's a long way to the top_

_It's a long way to the top_

Lemy, middle aged and dressed in a suit, stands in the middle of one of his many electronic outlets. He's fat, has a bad combover, and looks like he has gas, but he's rich. Very, very rich.

"Hey, fuckface."

His smile falls.

Yo, I haven't heard that name in years.

He turns, and a tall, slender Hispanic woman stands behind him. With sunkissed skin, ruby red lips, and one hell of a rack, she's gorgeous.

"J-Juicy?"

"That's me."

Holy shit, the last time he saw her, she weighed a good 650.

"Wow, you look great. What are you doing here?"

"My husband and I are getting a new TV." She looks around. "There he is."

A six foot tall dinosaur in sunglasses and a bandana tied like Pac's walks out from behind a display of TVs. "Yo, this place wack," he said, "they ain't got _shit_ like I want."

_It's a long way to the top_

_It's a long way to the top_

Lemy, gray and in a tux, walks Lora down the aisle. She is dressed in white with a veil covering her face. Her husband - a non Loud for once - smiles at her from the altar. Lemy hands her over and goes to sit with Gwen, Leia, Lupa, Lizy, and Loan, all older now, their age showing in their faces and graying hair. He sniffes and rubs a tear from his eyes. "Don't be a bitch," Loan says. "Stop crying."

Tears roll down her cheeks, and it isn't clear if she's talking to Lemy or to herself.

_It's a long way to the top_

_It's a long way, oh such a long way_

Lemy, in a white polo and black slacks, sits in the grass next to a gravestone, his knees drawn to his chest. His gray hair whips in the warm, summery wind and his eyes glisten with tears. "Everyone's doing fine," he says. "Lora and Brad had their baby. It's a boy." He chuckles. "They named him Kevin. Can you believe that? I know we ran out of L names fifteen years ago, but come on." He shakes his head. "Gavin and Grace both found someone, but they're still really close. Gracie's pregnant and I hope to God it's not his. The incest babies have to stop somewhere, you know? It's not good for the genes."

He shifts his weight. "Everyone else is pretty much the same. Gwen's breast cancer is in remission and Lupa finally quit smoking, but her cough still sounds really bad. Lizy and Loan are good too. Not much has changed there."

His phone vibrates and he digs it out of his pocket.

A text.

From his niece Lyah, Lyra's daughter. "That's Lyah," he says, "she needs a ride to soccer practice,"

He gets to his feet and looks down at the grave. "I'll be back next week," he says and lays his hand on the rough stone. "Love you, Dad."

Blinking away an errant tear, Lemy turns around…

...and walks away.

**And that's it. I feel like this is a story I should really post a big, long wall of text about, 'Cest Kids style, but tbh, I have nothing to say but thank you to all of you who've stuck with me through false starts and even falser finishes. I appreciate it and I hope to see you again sometime. **

**\- Flagg**


End file.
